


Work Sucks (I Know)

by chicken_salad, Truealphaswag



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Deceased Lucius Malfoy, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, M/M, Seemingly Unrequited Pining, Set It Up au, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicken_salad/pseuds/chicken_salad, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truealphaswag/pseuds/Truealphaswag
Summary: Draco and Harry find themselves in similar predicaments when it comes to their dead-end miserable jobs.  Their best bet?  Working together and setting their bosses up... though it doesn't have quite the outcome they anticipated.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Cormac McLaggen, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	1. Watching, Waiting, Commiserating

**Author's Note:**

  * For [familydontendwithblood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/familydontendwithblood/gifts).



> For Danielle: you’re our muse, spider-monkey  
> This fic was brought to you by: blink182, gluten free spaghetti, taco bell, margaritas (6), a bottle and a half of pacific rim, and a pumpkinhead (so far)
> 
> *** Please be advised major edits have occurred and the previous six chapters were edited/added to which results in a longer one chapter. We plan on there being 5 chapters total***

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You could say that when it comes to plot, this is where we Set It Up

**Chapter 1: Watching, Waiting Commiserating**

During the day, Harry was thankful for the open floor plan in the Improper Use of Magic Office. The constant stream of people running in and out, and the fluttering of paper airplane memos overhead almost made him forget that he was stuck on desk duty for the foreseeable future. Almost. But now that the work day had ended, and everyone else hurried out of the office towards the magical toilets and floo powder fireplaces, the empty desks mocked Harry.

At half past seven, Percy Weasley strode up to Harry’s desk and placed a stack of papers in Harry’s inbox. 

“Have you finished the report on owl sightings yet?” he asked, crossing his arms impatiently. “These are all of the disputes we received regarding under-age magic. I need you to read through them tonight and debrief me tomorrow morning as soon as I get to the office. Put the report on my desk as soon as you’re done.” And before Harry had a chance to respond, Percy walked into his office and closed the door. 

Harry slammed his forehead onto his desk next to the large pile of disputes. It would take him at least an hour to read all of them and several more to write up a debriefing that was good enough for Percy’s high expectations. Luckily, he had finished the other report that Percy wanted, and so he pushed back his chair, grabbed his binder and knocked on Percy’s door before entering.

Even though Harry had been placed on desk duty nearly a year ago, he still fought the urge to roll his eyes as soon as he stepped into Percy’s office. Behind Percy’s desk were awards from his time working in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, a framed letter from the Minister of Magic thanking him for his service (on which, Harry noticed gleefully, Weasley was spelled incorrectly), certificates for each O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exam he passed, and his Head Boy and Prefect badges. 

Plastering a smile on his face, Harry dropped the owl report in front of Percy, “Here you are… _sir._ ” Harry hoped that the delivery of this report would mean he could leave for the day, but he should’ve known better by this point. 

“Yes, ok. When will dinner get here?” Percy asked, without looking up at Harry. Harry wasn’t sure what irked him more: the fact Percy expected dinner without ever having asked for it, or the fact he was going to have to figure out what Percy wanted without giving away the fact he hadn’t expected Percy to want anything at all. Harry stared down at his hand where _I must not tell lies_ was scarred.

“I, err, was thinking about ordering from the Indian place down the street? With the samosas?” Harry figured if he was going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future he might as well get food he’d also like.

“Ugh, that stuff upsets my stomach,” Percy said. “Just get me pancakes from that 24-hour muggle diner.” And with that, Percy shooed Harry out of his office and shut the door again. Harry trudged back to his desk to call in the order. 

****************** 

Draco stuffed the chipped kettle back into his pocket. Portkey travel sucked. And it sucked even worse when it was pouring rain and your boss insisted you expend your efforts keeping _him_ dry… as if that wasn’t a task he could manage himself! Draco closed his eyes as he wrung out the bottom of his shirt. 

Oliver Wood, ignoring the fact that Draco was dripping wet, was still animatedly discussing the Quidditch match that they had been watching. Draco followed at Oliver’s heels, his shoes squelching on the sidewalk. 

“But did you see that wronski feint?” Oliver exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “It was incredible! He’s nearing retirement and still nearly as good as Krum was in his prime. Amazing. We should keep our eye on him if he ever wants to work in the Department of Magical Games and Sports when his Quidditch career is over. You know, I’m going to need an expert Quidditch player for the Quidditch League Headquarters opening soon.”

As the pair walked into the Ministry of Magic to finish their reports, Draco had a moment of regret. He really wanted to get a job without the help of his name to prove that he was different from his father, but Oliver Wood certainly tested his patience. He knew he would be stuck writing up the report about Quidditch pitch and supply quality while Oliver Wood reported on the more exciting play-by-plays. But that was the price he paid to be an assistant. What he really wanted was the British Quidditch League position, but the only way he’d’ be able to get it is if he dealt with whatever grunt work Oliver Wood threw at him.

“Oh,” Oliver said as they got in the lift. “All of that excitement really made me hungry. Do you think you can run out and get me something good to eat?”  
“It’s nearly nine, there’s not going to be much open,” Draco pointed out. But Oliver was not deterred. 

“Figure something out.” He said as they arrived at the seventh floor. “You can finish the report on hoop stability when you get back with my dinner.”

Draco clenched and unclenched his fists, pressed the button to go back up to the Atrium and said, “Whatever you say, _sir._ ”

Draco was so busy feeling sorry for himself that he didn’t notice the man stepping back from the ATM and collided with him. 

“Watch where you’re going!” Harry said, whipping around to see who bumped into him.

“You’re the one who walked into me,” Draco sneered. “ _...Potter._ ”

“What are you doing in Muggle London?” Harry asked incredulously. He fumbled for his wallet, trying to find another bank card to try.

“What? Only the Golden Boy can interact with muggles? It’s not as if we’re all still in Hogwarts, you know.” Draco said. “And if you must know, I’m trying to find a place that’s still serving food. What are you doing here?”

“Goddamnit, Ginny” Harry muttered at the insufficient funds error on the ATM screen before looking up at Draco. 

“That wasn’t really an answer, Potter. Besides, your failed relationship was in the Prophet ages ago. One would think the Great Harry Potter would’ve moved on by now… Or does the darling of the wizarding world still hold a flame for his wartime weaselette?”

“Err, right, sorry.” Harry said, mentally kicking himself for apologizing to Draco, of all people. “No, we set this muggle account up back when we were still dating for emergencies, and it’s too much of a hassle to change it. Plus, it’s not like either of us uses it that much. Just when I need to get fucking diner food at 9pm for my fucking boss. She must have had a muggle-money related emergency and didn’t replenish the funds.” And then, Harry Potter, kicked the brick wall.

“Ah, well in a shocking turn of events Potter, we seem to be in the same boat as far as bosses go” Draco drawled, inspecting his fingernails in an attempt to seem completely unaffected by an encounter with his school rival. “Where exactly were you getting food from?”

“Well, I placed an order for take-away at that diner,” Harry pointed distractedly next door to the ATM. “But they only take cash, and I didn’t have enough muggle money on me and I really just don’t want to go back up and face Percy.”

“Your boss is Percy?!” Draco guffawed. “Oh that is rich.” He backed away quietly, hoping that Harry wouldn’t notice. Luckily for Draco, he had plenty of muggle money on hand just in case there were muggles to bribe near the Quidditch match earlier. 

Harry looked up as he heard the diner door chime, and saw Draco’s blond head disappear into the diner. “That son of a bitch.” Harry sprinted into the diner behind him, and watched with horror as Draco sweet-talked the cashier.

““I’m just helping out my...good friend...over there,” he pointed at Harry and leaned over the counter to read her name tag. “In fact, Danielle, you could say that I’m coming to his rescue” He winked at Harry, and pulled out the correct amount of muggle cash needed for the order. Danielle, the cashier, shrugged, took the money and handed Draco the food and a receipt.

“Thanks, doll,” Draco said, sauntering past Harry, who was glaring at him, and out the door. Harry, of course, followed Draco. He grabbed Draco’s shoulder and spun him around.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Harry demanded.

“Well, it looks to me like I just bought my boss some dinner. What exactly did I order?” Draco said looking into the styrofoam container at the top of the pile. “Pancakes?”

“That’s for Percy.” Harry said quickly. “The other container is my dinner.”

“Oh, no,” Draco said, continuing to walk down the sidewalk toward the Ministry of Magic entrance. “I believe that is _my_ dinner now.”

“I’ll pay you back,” Harry was getting desperate now. “Double. Just please give me the pancakes.”

“Double?” Draco raised his eyebrow and paused to make Harry sweat it out a bit. “I suppose that’ll work. But I’m taking the side of rashers. And if you don’t get the money back to me by tomorrow night I’m going to start charging interest.” Draco quickly handed the pancakes off to Harry, sticking a rasher in his mouth and headed back to the elevator. 

Harry rushed after Draco to catch the lift he was stepping into, but Draco shut the door right as Harry reached him. 

“Better work on those seeker reflexes, Potter.” Draco taunted as the doors finished closing and the lift shot off. 

“Merlin’s beard,” Harry muttered, finally rolling his eyes like he’d wanted to for several hours. He rubbed his temple and pressed the button for the next available lift.

A few hours later, Harry walked through the door of Grimmauld Place, hung up his cloak, and toed off his shoes. This truly had felt like the longest day, even with the interjection of Malfoy. It was somewhat weird, but also...welcome. It broke up the monotony of his usual work day.

“Finally home, mate?” Ron asked, poking his head around the corner of the parlor. 

“Do we have anything stronger than butterbeer?” Harry asked as he sprawled across their couch and covered his head with a pillow. “I have had the most ridiculous day ever, and I would like to be very smashed.”

“Here, catch!” Ron said, levitating a bottle of Ogden’s at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I did… but now I’m curious as to why we’re taking out the best bottle of liquor this old dodgy place has to offer?” Harry asked, genuinely confused why Ron had chosen the bottle they’d been saving for ‘truly good news.’

“Well, you see,” Ron began sheepishly, “I asked-”

“He asked me to marry him, Harry!” Hermione shouted, coming around the corner and flashing a sparkly diamond in his face. Harry, who was in the middle of taking a sip of firewhiskey, began to splutter. 

“Oh,” Harry stuttered. “Oh my. That’s. That’s amazing!!” He stood up and gave them both a hug. He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest as he thought about how his two best friends were making this important life step without him. He didn’t want to be left behind, and yet, they were moving into unchartered territory and he was stagnant. Harry squirmed out of the group hug when he noticed that Ron and Hermione were focused very intently on each other, and went back to his spot on the couch. He flicked his wand and turned on his portable TV to distract himself as Ron and Hermione, still embracing, backed towards the stairs to head to the room that they shared.

****************** 

Draco was pleased to see, when he looked at his silver watch, that it wasn’t even midnight yet. McLaggen had sent him an annoyed owl earlier telling him that if he wasn’t done with work by 11:30 then he shouldn’t bother coming over. But Draco wasn’t that late, and after his day at work dealing with Oliver and then running into Potter, he really wasn’t in the mood to go back to his apartment right away. It would be much easier to ignore his thoughts if he was in somebody else’s bed.

He walked a few blocks away from the Ministry and apparated to Cormac’s front door. Draco reached for the ridiculously ostentatious door knocker. He never understood why Cormac insisted on having these ornately carved broomsticks on his front door. He rapped three times and waited. The door swung open, and Draco was disappointed to see that it was McLaggen’s house elf.

“Master McLaggen has retired for the night, sir, and is not to be disturbed,” the house elf squeaked. With a bow, she closed the door in Draco’s face. Draco tilted his head back and groaned. 

“I guess I’ll just go home then,” Draco muttered to himself. If he wasn’t going to be able to distract himself with Cormac, he’d have to settle for a glass of vintage red. He was in the mood for something dry.

Draco walked through the front door of the flat that he and Pansy shared. He immediately noticed two pairs of shoes tucked into the corner by the door to Pansy’s room, and a denim jacket thrown over a chair that he knew he’d never seen Pansy wear.

 _Well, at least someone is getting laid,_ Draco thought. He went to summon a glass and a bottle of wine but overshot it. The glass shattered and he swore. The door to Pansy’s room opened slightly.

“Is everything okay out here, dumbass?” Pansy whispered harshly, sticking her head out the door and glaring in Draco’s direction.

“It’s fine, Pans. Just a long day.” Draco replied, swishing his wand and repairing the glass. “I’d hate to interrupt whatever it is you have going on in there… Who do you have in there?” 

“Ginny Weasley.” Pansy deadpanned.

“Yeah, sure whatever,” Draco said to the now closed door. “I’ll just find out who it really is in the morning if they haven’t already snuck out by then.”

****************** 

“HERE,” Harry said, slamming an assortment of muggle bills and coins down in front of Draco the following night. “You could have at least told me which department you worked for last night. I had to ask Zacharias Smith, and he is the absolute worst.” Draco, much to Harry’s annoyance, had the audacity to look smug.

“I’m glad you were able to figure it out,” he said, pocketing the money.

“I have to ask--” 

“Do you?” Draco interrupted.

“I have to ask,” Harry began again. “What are you doing here this late? I really thought I was the last to leave the Ministry every night.”

“It might surprise you, Potter,” Draco said. “But you’re not the only person who has to work late sometimes. I happen to be a...very essential person in my department.”

“Right, reporting to Oliver Wood in regard to magical sports is incredibly important work.” Harry replied, sarcastically. “Must really make ole Lucius proud, to work in such a prestigious department, and for a Gryffindor no less.” Harry smirked while staring Draco down.

“GryffinDORK, you mean,” Draco said, the only thing giving away his anger was the way his eyes briefly flamed. “Besides, I’m not overly concerned about what my father would think considering he died in Azkaban several months ago.”

“Oh, shite.” Harry bit his lip. Draco was pleased to see that he at least had the decency to look embarrassed. “I...didn’t know.”

“Well, you wouldn’t, would you?” Draco said, crossing his arms and looking away. “It wasn’t on the front page of the Prophet when it happened, and your name wasn’t mentioned so you wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Actually,” Harry said, feeling the need to defend himself. “I stopped reading the Prophet ages ago, so much gossip.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Draco replied. “Thanks for paying me back though.”

“You know, ‘must not tell lies’ and all that rubbish,” Harry shrugged, suddenly feeling awkward. “I, uh, have to admit it’s somewhat nice to see someone suffering at work as much as me,” Harry tried to smile at Draco, though it teetered on being a grimace.

“Yes, of course, misery loves its company, I suppose,” Draco sighed, promptly tucking away the strange sensation of grief, regret, and closure he felt at his father’s death. Draco desperately wanted to change the subject. “So, uhm, working for a pseudo family member who’s the brother of your ex must be buckets of fun, huh?”

“Yes, just what every man who’s dumped by his school time sweetheart when she realizes she prefers girls to boys dreams of.” Harry replies, not missing a beat despite the topic of conversation.

“So the rumors are true, then. And here I thought my best friend was yanking my chain this whole time.” Draco responded. “Really didn’t peg Ginevra as a Slytherin chaser and yet…”

“Well, Ginny’s always been one for a challenge. And if I’m going to lose out to anyone, probably better for it to be because I have the wrong bits,” Harry laughed. He was long past the point of lamenting his failed relationship with Ron’s sister. 

“I guess the only way the Weasel could forgive you for your romantic involvement with his sister is if she decided not even the _Chosen One_ was the right sort of man for her.” Draco leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Well, anyway,” Harry said, backing out of the room. “As lovely as this chat was, I better get back to the report I needed to write for Percy, otherwise I’ll never get to leave this hell hole.” And with that, Harry strode down the hallway towards the lift leaving Draco with his thoughts about how this was the second night in a row that he had a relatively civil conversation with Harry Potter that didn’t end with a hex.

The next morning, Draco woke up to loud music blaring. He truthfully couldn’t believe Pansy had fallen so quickly and deeply in love with muggle music. Could he have done without the phrase “Sleazy, sick of all your lines so cheesy, sorry daddy but I’m not that easy?” Probably. Did he have the rock solid balls to ever mention that to Pansy? Probably not.

“I’m not gonna sit here while you circle jerk it and work it,” Ginny sang, kicking open the door to Draco’s bedroom. “Sup, Malfoy?”

“Morning?” Draco rubbed his eyes, and yawned. Why was Ginny here this early? Was she here last night? Conversations from the night before started to come back to him in bits and pieces, blurry in ways that suggested wine and explained his headache. 

He remembered coming back to the flat he shared with Pansy distracted because he was replaying the conversation he had had with Potter as he walked back from the office after working late. He remembered sitting down on the couch and summoning a bottle of wine and two glasses, pouring one for himself and one for Pansy who was already sitting nearby.

“Long day at the office, Draco?” she had asked, as the faint beat of techno music could be heard from Pansy’s bedroom. Draco couldn’t remember the specifics of the conversation, but he remembered complaining about Oliver Wood, lamenting the lack of time he was able to spend with Cormac, and asking if Pansy had a girl over (which she usually did). Pansy was uncharacteristically coy in her response and it dawned on Draco then, and also now, that there had really only been one girl other than Pansy occupying their flat over the last few months.

He was used to a revolving door of women, each as haughty and pureblood as the next. But then, a few months ago, Ginny Weasley had stumbled in giggling with Pansy after a night out drinking. Pansy had mentioned her occasionally, they were both employees at the Daily Prophet (Pansy was a gossip columnist, Ginny covered Quidditch), but he hadn’t realized they were _friends._ Ginny was over constantly, and this high energy muggle music was always playing, and Draco, drunk on wine, spit out his accusation to Pansy. Pansy had laughed, winked, and gone back into her room leaving Draco with his wine and his thoughts.

Ginny’s voice broke Draco out of his reverie. “I heard you finally realized I’m here for Pansy and not just for laughs?” Ginny chuckled as she leaned against the door frame. Draco covered his head with his quilt.

“What else did Pansy tell you last night?” Draco groaned and wondered if he had mentioned that Harry Potter was occupying some of his thoughts. “And why are you practically knocking down my door and bombarding me with questions this early in the morning?”

“I’m covering the Quidditch match between the Harpies and the Cannons for The Prophet today, and I figured Oliver was going to make you go to report on, I don’t know, something boring probably,” Ginny crossed her arms and shrugged. “She also mentioned again that you were more fun to be around when you actually had time to shag your boyfriend. Can’t say I think highly of your choice in men though, McLaggen was such a prat in school.” 

Ginny sat down on the foot of Draco’s bed and continued, “Pansy is worried about you. You’re incredibly overworked. But I think I have a solution. My brother is just his type, you should try setting Oliver up. Maybe then you can see Cormac more regularly.”

“Maybe,” Draco said, thankful that Ginny couldn’t see through the quilt and notice the blush he could feel spreading across his face.

“Try talking to Harry,” Ginny added, patting what she assumed was Draco’s ankle. “I know you don’t get along, but he knows Oliver and my brother so he could offer some help. It’d probably be good for him, honestly. You know, he spends all his time with Ron and Hermione, which must be dreadfully heterosexual.

“Yes, yes, I do understand now how that would be unpleasant for him and all members of this house,” Draco replied, not coming up from underneath the blanket. He could hear the sound of another pair of footsteps entering his room.

“The beat so phat, gonna make me cum,” Pansy shouted as she grabbed Ginny by the waist. Draco threw a pillow at the couple as they danced their way out of his bedroom. He sighed, and rolled out of bed to get ready for yet another Saturday spent working for Oliver Wood.

******************

Harry winced as the morning light shone through his shades on Monday morning. Was there anything worse than blinding bright light when you were hungover? _Ah, shite!_ Harry thought to himself… bright lights meant it was at least 7AM, which meant he was already running late. And to make matters worse, he was twisted in the sheets yet again, with the cusp of a memory calling to his mind. He had the disconcerting thought that Malfoy had made an appearance in his dream last night, which was something that hadn’t plagued him since his Hogwarts years. Maybe he shouldn’t drink so much firewhiskey before bed, he mused to himself, grabbing his robes off his bedside chair and combing his fingers through his hair. Sure, he didn’t exactly look well-groomed, but one of his only joys at work was frustrating Percy with his somewhat disheveled appearance.

Harry barely had enough time to catch his breath after delivering Percy’s unnecessarily complicated coffee order before Draco appeared out of nowhere in front of his desk. 

“Are you busy?” Draco asked, slamming his palms on Harry’s desk.

“N-no?” Harry stammered. “I mean, yes, but what do you need?”

“No, Potter, you wouldn’t want to know what I _need,_ ” Draco suggested, pausing just long enough for Harry to look nervous... “Oh, relax,” Draco waved his hand dismissively, “I had an idea that might benefit us both, don’t worry.”

“Go on,” Harry rested his chin on his hand, anxious to hear what sort of plan Draco had concocted. 

“We’re both facing a lot of...pressure, at work,” Draco began. “And I think that we could use some time off. Not that Wood or the Work Weasel will let us. But hear me out...what if we were able to distract them?”

“Distract them how?” Harry asked.

“In the most basic way to human nature, Potter. Sex.” Draco responded. “You are familiar with sex, right?”

“I mean, er, yes. Of course I am. There was Ginny, and then that time with Dean before he got back together with Seamus and-”

“Yes, yes, Potter. We’ve all seen The Prophet sexual exploits of one Harry Potter… Though one must admit that for a Gryffindor, Dean is still an impressive catch,” Draco said, waggling his eyebrows to emphasize the point. 

“Oh,” Harry breathed. “I, uh, agree? Obviously?”

“Careful, if I didn’t know any better, I just might think The Boy Who Lived was uncomfortable with the gay community,” Draco said, staring into Harry’s eyes with an edge of superiority.

Harry gulped,audibly, but managed to pull himself together, “No, just, uhm, surprised, I guess. Figured you’d end up with a nice pureblood witch.”

“Yes, well, sometimes you’re wrong, Potter. Sometimes you realize family expectations are based in years of racism and hierarchy…” Draco continued, “But correcting you wasn’t why I bothered to show up at your desk this morning. I have an idea that I think you might like."

"Doubtful," Harry said. "But now I'm curious, so please enlighten me."

“You know that all I do is bestow greater knowledge on you,” Draco started, “My thought is that we have two bosses who are entirely too obsessed with work, right?”

“Yes, my social life acutely feels that pain,” Harry replied, not quite grasping Draco’s train of thought with this.

“Well, I think we should set them up,”

“Set them up with...what?” Harry asked, still not understanding. “With who?”

“With each other, you bloody idiot.”

“With… each other?” Harry asked with a confused look on his face.

Draco rolled his eyes before responding, “I have it on good authority that Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood play for the same team, if you catch my drift.”

“Percy is gay?!” Harry exclaimed. Draco pressed his palm to his forehead.

“For fucks sake, Potter,” Draco said. “If you were any slower you’d be moving backwards.”

“You know Malfoy, you could consider not being a condescending arsehole?” Harry yelled, his anger nearly sparking at the ends of his fingertips.

“Let me spell it out for you,” Draco said, pulling out a notebook. “We are essentially in charge of Percy and Oliver’s lives” Draco paused because Harry looked like he was going to interrupt, but Draco stopped him. “Don’t deny it, I know you have a calendar for Percy just like I have a calendar for Oliver. We can just...make them ‘accidentally’ meet up at the same time.”

“Okay….”

“At best, they fall in love and then we can take credit for it and we’ll get their approval and we can move on from these godforsaken jobs with their highest recommendation,” Draco tapped his fingers on Harry’s desk. “At worst, they’re distracted for a little while and I can at least take a nap or go on a date with my boyfriend. Please.”

“You know it goes against everything I stand for to agree with you, Malfoy” Harry said, placing his hands on Draco’s wrist and leaning in. “But, I think this might be a brilliant plan.”

“Oh, Potter,” Draco said, leaning in so him and Harry were inches apart, “I _only_ have brilliant plans.”


	2. I'll Be Your Thrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by 4 Langston Coolers, 1 Michelob Ultra, at least half a dozen weird Siri questions, banana bread pudding, and entirely too much laughing at our own oustide fic related jokes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** Please be advised major edits have occurred and the previous six chapters were edited/added to which results in a longer one chapter. We plan on there being 5 chapters total***

Chapter 2: I’ll Be Your Thrill

Harry climbed out of the fireplace shaking out his robes and straightening his glasses that had gone askew after flushing himself down a toilet. He had about thirty minutes before Percy was expecting him to be downstairs. Draco was waiting nearby, and when he saw Harry spin into the Ministry he headed over to him.

“Walk with me, Potter.” He said guiding Harry around the newly renovated magical fountain in the direction of the lifts. “Have you thought any more about what I proposed the other day? I have a few ideas, but unfortunately I need your input.”

“Well,” Harry paused. He had tried to come up with ideas, but by the time he got home from work it took all of his energy to deal with Hermione and Ron who were always loudly arguing about wedding related things. Ron, having no experience with muggle weddings, could not wrap his head around some of the traditions that Hermione insisted were necessary for their celebration. “I thought about it...a little. But, err, I don’t really have any suggestions. We have to figure out a way to have them run into each other, right?”

“Yes, Potter,” Draco let out an exasperated sigh. “We need to lay the foundation by having them interact in some way. Then we can send them off on a date or something. But we have to make it seem natural, the last thing I need is for Oliver to think I’m setting him up.”

“Agreed,” Harry responded. The thought of Percy finding out that he was interfering with his love life was a little concerning, but having a social life again would be worth the risk. Harry tapped his wand on the wall to call the lift. “Why don’t we have them run into each other, casually, in the office?”

“Easier said than done,” Draco walked into the lift when it arrived and lowered his voice so the other people around them wouldn’t hear. “But they work on different floors, so how would we get them in the same place at the same time?” A few paper airplanes flew in as Draco and Harry continued to muse over how to make this happen. The lift made a few more stops, and a variety of witches and wizards came and went. 

“If only we could coordinate them getting stuck in one of these,” Harry said, tapping the wrought iron frame of the lift. “It would definitely be a conversation starter, but I have no idea how we’d pull it off.”

“Shunpike!” Draco exclaimed. Harry raised an eyebrow, not following Draco’s train of thought. “He works in the Magical Maintenance Department and owes me a favor. If we can get Percy and Oliver into a lift at the same time, then I bet Stan can get it to stop.”

“What sort of favor?” Harry asked curiously. 

“Never you mind that,” Draco waved it off. “Isn’t this your stop?” And he gave Harry a little shove out of the gate.

As the gate began to shut, Harry turned around and stuck his arm in to stop it. “This plan is going to work,” Harry asserted with a spark of confidence that surprised Draco.

******************

Over the next few days, whenever Draco and Harry had time to spare (which was not often), they would send paper memos to each other trying to work out the ideal time to send their bosses to the lift. Harry could always tell if it was a note from Draco because he had a habit of charming them into paper cranes instead of planes.

_Today’s the day. You know the plan, Potter. Head to the lift at 10:15 and I’ll have Oliver waiting on our floor_. The note caught on fire as soon as Harry finished reading it, and he swept the ash into the trash bin next to his desk. 

Slightly before 10:15, Harry knocked on Percy’s door and ushered him to the lift for one of his many scheduled meetings. Harry followed Percy into the lift and casually leaned against the buttons to “accidentally” stop it on Draco and Oliver’s floor. The doors opened on the seventh floor and Oliver walked in as Harry slipped out with the excuse of needing to return to his desk to send a last minute memo to the Muggle Liaison Office. Draco quickly sent a message to Stan to make sure that the elevator wouldn’t make any additional stops.

“I hope your momentary stroke of genius pays off,” Draco hissed in Harry’s ear as they rounded the corner of a shortcut and hurried to the maintenance room where they could watch their plan unfold. 

******************

Percy felt the lift lurch, groan, and then stop. He wanted to groan along with it, but he knew that would be completely undignified. One must always maintain the facade of calm when faced with adversity. He would never continue to rise through the ranks of the Ministry if he let small things bother him. Though, his former classmate in the lift with him was certainly testing this conviction. Percy took a deep breath and channeled what he thought was an incredibly even voice,

“ _Must_ you continue tapping your foot like that, Wood?”

“When there’s Quidditch scouting reports, broom research, AND a brand new chasing formation to explore? Yes, yes there is a reason to be a bit impatient about being trapped in a bloody lift in the Ministry!” Oliver exclaimed. Percy was clearly just as uptight as he had been in Hogwarts. They’d barely been stopped a full minute and he was already complaining.

“Yes, of course, Quidditch is just life or death, isn’t it?” Percy let slip out. He managed to school his features from outright annoyance, but he couldn’t quite stop his mouth. Wood was clearly just as obsessed with Quidditch as he had been in school. While Percy had been reasonably up before sunrise for academic purposes, Wood was up studying his Quidditch playbook. 

“You’d think you’d be less of a bore this far removed from Hogwarts, but I suppose you’ve always been a beacon of dullness. Some things don’t change, I guess.” Oliver shrugged and watched Percy’s face turn just the slightest bit red. 

“Well, you’d think you would’ve grown up at all! What good, pray tell, does the Department of Magical Games and Sports actually do for the Wizarding World, hmm? I don’t believe we would perish without your presence.” Percy retorted, his chest puffing up, all thoughts of civility leaving his mind.

“Oh right, because Improper Use of Magic is just integral to wizarding society, how dare I forget?” Oliver said, sarcasm evident. He leaned against the edge of the lift, desperately hoping his comment would shut Percy up. He was quickly proven wrong.

“I recommend you learn to control your attitude, Wood. I have a feeling that the Bulgarians won’t appreciate it next week when you visit for their match against England.” Percy looked away with the ghost of a smirk on his face when he had finished speaking. 

“You are absolutely insufferable, Weasley! It’s a wonder anyone puts up with your antics at all! If it were up to me, I would-” Oliver’s rant was interrupted by the clanking of the lift grates opening on the ground level of the Ministry. Percy wasted no time in delicately stepping around Oliver and exiting toward the floo, his robes swishing behind him. Oliver clenched his fists and talked himself out of following Percy to continue telling him exactly where he thought Percy could shove his thoughts.

_Absolute git_ , Oliver thought to himself as he made his way toward the floo and the large glass of firewhiskey that would be waiting for him at his flat.

******************

“That...could have been worse,” Draco leaned back in his chair and propped his legs up on Harry’s desk. Percy and Oliver had both left for the day, but made sure that they left their assistants with reports that needed to be finished that night. With their bosses out of the office, Draco had relocated to the Improper Use of Magic Office to get his work done, as well as to discuss their failures over some beers. 

“Worse?” Harry said, pushing Draco’s legs off his desk. “How could this possibly have gone worse? They hated each other. That isn’t even close to what we wanted.”

“Just because the outcome wasn’t what we had planned, doesn’t mean it was a failure.” Draco replied evenly. He waved his wand to straighten out the papers that had been displaced when his legs returned abruptly to the floor. “At least they interacted with each other. It would have been worse if they hadn’t acknowledged each other’s existence. We can learn from this and work it to our advantage.”

“You sounded a bit like Hermione for a second there,” Harry muttered. Draco took a swig of his beer in response, and looked down at the inkblot forming on his report.

“Do you need me to spell it out for you like Granger would, Potter?” Malfoy set his report aside. “We learned that in order for Weasley to be interested, Oliver needs to have a prestigious position at the Ministry. So you just have to talk him up, and make him seem important. Percy is also keeping tabs on Quidditch matches which should be easy enough for us to exploit. Were you even paying attention?”

“Clearly I was, Malfoy. That’s how I recognized how badly it was going. It’s not as if all of us were trained to pick up on subtleties to exploit later.” Harry said.

“Right, of course. You’re very used to the Gryffindor approach of rushing in and asking questions later. Luckily for us both, this is a situation that needs a lighter hand which I just so happen to have.” Draco handed Potter another beer and continued, “I think you were on the right path with getting them stuck in the lift. But perhaps, they would benefit from a different set of circumstances.” 

“Okay, if you think you have a better idea, tell me,” Harry accepted the beverage.

“First, you’re going to tell Weasley all about Wood’s accomplishments and how important he is in the MInistry.” Draco explained. “Do it casually. It also probably wouldn’t hurt if you mentioned that he can get free tickets to just about any Quidditch match.”

“And how am I supposed to know about Oliver’s accomplishments?” Harry asked.

“I guess it’s a good thing you have me, eh?” Draco retorted. “While you’re doing that, I’ll drop hints that the Weasel is interested in Oliver, and set up a meeting with a to-be-determined colleague for next week. The plan will be for Wood to meet with this colleague at the Leaky Cauldron and then proceed to have a business dinner at La Sirene. You will also schedule a work meeting for Weaslebee that will take place at the Leaky Cauldron at the same time. Since the colleague won’t show up, they can bond over the incompetence of others and hopefully, Wood will ask Percy to dinner so the reservation won’t go to waste. That should impress Weasley enough for him to accept.”

“You really thought this through,” Harry responded once he had a chance to let it sink in. “If only you could apply this same work ethic to your actual job.” Harry waved his finished report in Draco’s face and pointed to Draco’s abandoned report. Harry cleared up the empty bottles and packed up his stuff.

Draco scoffed and gathered his belongings to go back to his own desk so he could finish getting his work done without any more distractions.

******************

Over the next few days, Harry and Draco didn’t see much of each other at the Ministry of Magic. It turned out that it was harder than they anticipated to have a casual conversation with their bosses. Draco had the distinct impression that Wood was not listening to a single word he said if it didn’t have to do with Quidditch.

“So the other day when you were in a meeting I had lunch upstairs,” Draco attempted another conversation in Oliver’s office. He had a two hour break between meetings and a Quidditch match, so Draco thought this would be ideal. “And I overheard some interesting Quidditch talk.” 

Oliver looked up from his desk at the word Quidditch. “About what?”

“Well, they were discussing whether or not Wales had a shot at making it into the next round of the Cup,” Draco said calmly. “They were also talking about various bets on matches that they had made, and a name kept cropping up. Peter? Perry? It was one of the Weasleys, there are too many of them to keep track.”

“Percy, probably,” Oliver grumbled and narrowed his eyes. “He works here in the ministry, but I’m not sure I would have pegged him for a gambling man.”

“People can surprise you,” Draco’s mouth twitched up into a small smile. “At any rate, they were talking about Percy and mentioned that _they_ had overheard him talking about getting stuck in the lift last week and he spoke very highly of the gentleman that was stuck in there with him. He was very impressed, and dare I say, _interested_.”

“Interested,” Oliver repeated absentmindedly. But Draco had worked for Oliver long enough to recognize the wheels turning in his head. He slipped out of the office as Wood distractedly tapped his quill on the desk.

******************

Meanwhile, Harry’s luck was only slightly better. He managed to catch Percy when he was in a lift reading the latest article in the Daily Prophet about this year’s World Cup plans, and Oliver Wood’s name happened to appear in a quote in the first paragraph. 

“Oliver Wood,” Harry mused. “He was Quidditch Captain when I was there. Incredibly focused and driven, it’s good to see another Gryffindor in a high ranking Ministry position like yourself.” 

Percy glanced sideways at Harry and nodded his head, then returned to the article. Harry took this as a sign to go on. He thought back to the list of accomplishments that Draco had given him and picked the ones that he thought would impress Percy the most.

“He was a major part of the redesign of the Quidditch uniforms to be more aerodynamic and safe, he worked as an ambassador to include more countries in the World Cup which strengthened our diplomatic relationships all around,” Harry continued. “And honestly, just think of the seats that Bagman got your dad for the World Cup when he was in Wood’s position, I bet Oliver can get seats like that whenever he wants.” 

“Those were excellent seats...” Percy folded up the paper and stuck it in the pocket of his robes. “I have to admit that it does sound like Oliver Wood is at least more competent than Ludo Bagman was.” This, Harry knew, was as close to a compliment as he could have hoped for from Percy. When they returned to their office, Harry sent off a memo to tell Draco that the seeds had been planted and he was ready for phase two.

******************

“Oliver wasn’t thrilled about having a Friday night meeting out of the office,” Draco told Harry . They were seated at a table close enough to the bar that they would be able to hear Percy and Oliver’s eventual conversation, although Harry had some extendable ears in his pocket just in case.

“Neither was Percy,” Harry nodded. “But, he would do just about anything for a good networking opportunity. You’re going to have to sit on this side before they get here, though, and Percy is rarely late.”

“This looks idiotic,” Draco said pulling his chair over to the same side of the table as Harry. 

“Speak for yourself,” Harry replied. “But nobody is going to be able to see us anyway once we put on my invisibility cloak. And before you question it, I coordinated with Tom the Barman to keep this table reserved while we’re here so we don’t have to worry about anybody sitting here when we’re invisible.”

At quarter till, Percy Weasley strode into the Leaky Cauldron looking a bit put out and headed towards the bar. Draco and Harry shuffled closer to each other with pained looks on their faces, and Harry swung his invisibility cloak over both of their heads. 

“Ouch Potter, that was my shin.” Draco sneered as Harry accidentally kicked him under the table.

“Oh get over it, it was an accident,” Harry whispered. “It’s hard to maneuver under here and I wanted to make sure he wouldn’t be able to see my feet, okay?”

“I hope this doesn’t take long,” Draco grumbled. 

******************

Percy took off his cloak and draped it carefully on the back of his seat at the bar. As always, he was five minutes early. Percy strongly felt that getting somewhere early was being on time, getting somewhere on time was being late, and being late was inexcusable… It was one of his many gripes about his brother’s best friend and his assistant. Normally Percy would wait for his colleague to arrive before ordering a drink, but given that it was a Friday night and he had some nerves regarding the bet he placed on Tutshill Tornados (they were an underdog but if they could upset Puddlemere United, Percy would win quite the share of Galleons). He signaled for the barkeeper,

“I’ll have a Cosmopolitan,” Percy said. He had recently watched some muggle television and was very intrigued by this beverage.  
.  
Tom, the barkeeper, grunted in reply and put a glass of lager in front of Percy. Percy sighed and accepted this alternative. He took a sip of his drink and looked around the room to see if the person he was meeting had arrived without him noticing. He didn’t see his colleague, but he did notice a familiar face walk through the door.

Oliver Wood threw his cloak over his shoulder as he entered The Leaky Cauldron. The bar wasn’t exactly big and he immediately saw Percy was seated at a stool alone. What Draco had said to him the other day rolled around in his mind. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to sit somewhat close to Percy while he waited for his peer to join. He could try to be civil.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Oliver said, gesturing to Percy’s beer. He hadn’t pegged Percy as a beer guy, but he supposed the man might not be quite the same as he had been at Hogwarts. A foaming pint appeared in front of him. He took a large swig and nodded at Percy. Percy, slightly confused, nodded back. Oliver took this opportunity to speak,

“Nothing like an ice cold beer to take the edge off a rough work week, eh?”

“It would be if the work week was over. But I’m supposed to be meeting with someone, and it appears as though they aren’t able to tell time,” Percy responded.

“So you’re here for business over pleasure, too? I was supposed to meet with somebody about International Quidditch standards, but he hasn’t shown up yet either.”

“It’s so unprofessional to not show up to a meeting on time,” Percy scoffed and took another sip. Oliver smiled into his beer because it seemed as though Percy hadn’t changed that much since Hogwarts.

“So how long is long enough to wait it out for them to show?” Oliver said right before taking a big gulp of his lager. While Percy was being somewhat friendly, alcohol usually made everything a tad bit smoother conversation wise.

“At least another fifteen minutes,” Percy sighed, looking at his watch again. 

“Well, if we’re both stuck waiting at least a little longer, might as well order another round.” Oliver finished his drink and eyed Percy’s half full glass speculatively. “If you finish that drink in one go, I’ll buy you your next one.”

Percy was not one to turn down free...anything, so he took a deep breath and chugged. Oliver was both incredibly impressed and shocked, but held up his end of the bargain and got the attention of Tom so he could purchase another round. This time though, they’d be shooting Firewhiskey.

“Two shots of Firewhiskey, Tom,” Oliver said as Tom quickly filled the glasses and set them in front of him and Percy. Percy raised an eyebrow, but before he could comment, Oliver raised his glass in salute, “To Gryffindor and old friends!” Oliver clinked his glass with the one Percy had reluctantly picked up. 

“To Gryffindor, I suppose,” Percy said while tossing his shot back. Oliver winced as he took his but for all Percy’s face gave away, he might as well have been drinking pumpkin juice.

Oliver and Percy started animatedly discussing Quidditch and barely noticed that another twenty minutes went by. 

“It looks like both of us got stood up for our work meetings,” Oliver said, finally checking the time. “I was supposed to continue my meeting over dinner at La Sirene. The reservation is pretty soon and I know it’s really hard to get in there, I’d hate to waste it. Would you want to join me?”

“You know, I’ve been wanting to go there for ages but it’s so difficult to snag a table. So sure, why not,” Percy said, removing his cloak from the back of his chair and putting it on. “Lead the way.”

From their corner of The Leaky Cauldron, Draco and Harry watched as Oliver held the door open for Percy and the pair walked out in the direction of La Sirene. Draco cheered silently while Harry let out a somewhat loud whoop that caused the few other patrons in The Leaky Cauldron to look toward their seemingly empty booth.

“Potter, please do remember we’re under an invisibility cloak,” Draco whispered whilst elbowing Harry in the ribs lightly. Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed Draco’s arm so that they could exit The Leaky Cauldron under the invisibility cloak and then re-enter without it. It would be far too suspicious for them to suddenly appear at a booth that had been empty for nearly an hour.

Draco and Harry hurried over to the bar to celebrate. Harry ordered them a round of firewhiskey as they discussed what they were going to do with potentially an entire weekend to themselves. 

“Well,” Draco threw back his drink. “If it’s not too late when I leave here, I’ll go over to Cormac’s for the night and we can finally have breakfast together. We’ve been talking about it for ages, but I’m always working too early in the morning.”

“Cormac?” Harry questioned. “Merlin, he was the absolute worst.”

“That’s almost exactly what your ex-Weasley told me,” Draco said, leaning against the bar. “But he’s nice to look at. What about you?”

“Nothing definite,” Harry said, looking around with his drink in his hand. “I suppose if I’m charming enough tonight, maybe I’ll find somebody here.”

“The clientele here isn’t ideal,” Draco said, also surveying the crowd. “You helped me pull off this first date for our bosses, so I’ll do you a favor. Pay your bill and follow me, Potter.” Draco left some coins on the counter and stood up heading towards the door.

Draco led him into an area of Diagon Alley that Harry had never seen before. He tapped on a wall and muttered something under his breath. The wall transformed into a small doorway that Draco began to step through, until he realized Harry wasn’t following. He roughly grabbed Harry by the wrist and pulled him into what was clearly a bar. It was loud and dark, and truthfully not the scene Harry would’ve chosen for himself. But the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid in months and Draco was clearly getting some, even if it was with douchebag McLaggen, had Harry biting his tongue at speaking his thoughts out loud.

“Now, Potter,” Draco began, very close to Harry’s ear so that he could hear him over the music, “you must be careful to Not. Touch. Anything. This place is good for picking someone up, but it isn’t exactly known for it’s sanitation.” 

“I may have been able to figure that one out for myself, Malfoy,” Harry suppressed a chuckle and took in the run-down booths lining the sides of the bar and the floor which seemed sticky no matter where he stepped.

“Yes, well, beggars can’t be choosers. Now let’s get us both a drink while we scope out the scene.” Draco said, sauntering up to the bar and ordering two sickly green drinks without consulting Harry. “Drink up, Potter.” Harry took the drink from him and gulped half of it down.

Draco and Harry circled the small dance floor once. It was crowded with people and even though he was wearing his glasses, Harry was having a hard time making out people’s appearances beyond vague shadows and the occasional flash of color.

“What about him?” Draco asked Harry, tilting his head toward a slender man with cropped dark hair and a tattoo running up his right bicep. 

“He’s… fine… but not quite my type?” Harry said, finishing his drink and finally taking the time to stop and actually take in the full scene before him. There were almost exclusively men littered across the dancefloor and booths. In fact, the few women he saw were entangled with each other. Suddenly, it dawned on Harry, “Malfoy, is this… is this a gay bar?”

“Wow, Potter. It’s truly a wonder they didn’t promote you straight to Head Auror with those keen observational skills.” Draco drawled sarcastically. 

“Well,” Harry said, finishing his drink. “I don’t usually drink on the job. Besides, that wasn’t the test that I had a problem with anyway. But speaking of drinks, I need another.” 

The pair made their way back to the bar to order another round. This time Harry chose the beverage: a deep red drink with gold smoke billowing from the surface.

“Why don’t you pick out a guy,” Draco offered. “And then I’ll go over and talk to him, get the ball rolling, and you can come over and insert yourself into the conversation. That way there’s less pressure on you to make the first move.”

Harry nodded and scanned the bar. Finally he caught eyes with a tall, sandy haired man. “That one,” Harry said, pointing towards the guy.

“Very subtle, Potter.” Draco said, but he walked over to him anyway. After a few minutes Draco waved Harry over. “I think you might remember, Roger Davies, from Hogwarts.”

“Errr, yes. You were the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain,” Harry said, in lieu of a greeting.

“Great, so you have captaincy in common,” Draco said, pushing Harry closer to Davies. “I’ll let you two talk about that, I think I see my boyfriend over there.” 

Harry looked over to where Draco’s eyes had gone and saw McLaggen sidled up a bit too close to the guy next to him. Harry wasn’t one to judge, but it looked to him like McLaggen was trying to pull a guy more than Harry was. Draco leaned in towards Harry and whispered in his ear,

“Have fun with Hogwarts Hottie.” Draco winked. Harry watched Draco walk away and refocused his attention to Roger. Roger smiled at him and Harry felt like things were finally looking up.

******************

The following morning, Draco woke up to the sounds of birds chirping, and the smell of breakfast wafting up the stairs. He rolled over to see Cormac still asleep and smiled to himself. He slipped out of bed quietly, and headed downstairs to see what the house elf was cooking

“It’s been awhile since you were here for breakfast,” Cormac said groggily when he made his way downstairs a little while later. He sat down at the kitchen table across from Draco and snapped his fingers. The house elf came running over with a steaming mug and a plate of toast.

“Surprisingly enough, I haven’t been called in for some Saturday emergency in the office yet,” Draco said, setting The Prophet down on the table and taking a sip of his tea. “I followed the advice of Ginny Weasley, and if the plan keeps working, I might be able to spend more mornings...or nights...here with you.”

“Cool,” Cormac said, reaching for a piece of toast. Draco thought he caught a smile flit across Cormac’s face. “The elf will be thrilled, you know she loves cooking for two.”

******************

Hermione let out a small scream when Harry’s body swirled into the fireplace. Harry had hoped to sneak in via floo powder, since nobody ever expected him to arrive that way, but unfortunately his good luck had run out and Hermione had been in the parlor reading at that very moment.

“Harry!” she exclaimed. “You’re not just getting home from work now, are you? We were worried but it wouldn’t have been the first time you slept in the office. Send an owl next time, or something, honestly.”

“I wasn’t at work,” Harry sighed contentedly. Hermione gave him a stern look. “I was actually--”

“I thought I heard your voice, Harry! Where were you last night?” Ron came around the corner and sat down on the floor leaning against Hermione’s legs.

“Harry was just about to tell me that when you interrupted,” Hermione told Ron. She put her hands on his shoulders and kissed his cheek. “Please, continue, Harry.”

Harry explained that Percy had plans last night, so he was able to get away from work earlier than usual and went out to a bar where he met…

“Hogwarts Hottie,” Harry said. “That’s what I’ll call them for now, I’m not ready for you to know who it is, especially if it ends up being nothing.” 

“Good for you! I’m glad you’re finally getting laid.” Ron clapped and Hermione hit him with a pillow.

“Oh shut it, Ron.”


	3. Carry Me Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by an embarrassing amount of sobriety, the Celtics winning game 3, and the phrase "f*ck it, it's 2020!"

Chapter 3: Carry Me Home

“We need to get Percy and Oliver to go away for several days over the Christmas holidays,” Harry said, as he took his usual seat next to Draco on the edge of the recently renovated magical fountain. The Ministry was quiet because most people had gone home for the evening, but this time Draco and Harry were there late by choice. It was the easiest way for them to plan the next date for their bosses.

“Do you think they’re ready for that?” Draco mused. “Maybe we should wait until New Years.”

“No, it _needs_ to be Christmas.” Harry responded sternly. “Ron cornered me when I got home last night. HIs mum is insisting that I come for Christmas dinner and the engagement party they specifically planned for that night. They figured if both events were at the same time, that it would be easier for me to attend. I’ve missed pretty much every Weasley family gathering since I started working for Percy, so I need to be there.”

“Wouldn’t Percy be invited? If it’s a Weasley family party?” Draco was confused.

“Technically he has an open invitation to everything,” Harry explained. “But I don’t think Ron will be bothered if he doesn’t go.”

“Actually, having a long weekend for Christmas would be beneficial for me as well,” Draco replied. “Cormac has been trying to get me to commit to playing Seeker in his pickup Quidditch League finals on Christmas afternoon.”

“So it’s settled then,” Harry said, clapping his hands together. “It’s Oliver’s turn to have the “idea”. Which I think will work well, Oliver will have better luck persuading Percy to go away for the holiday than I would.” 

“Deal,” Draco nodded. “I better head out, Cormac is waiting for me. His elf is making us dinner.” He stood up and walked over to the wall of fireplaces. He waved to Harry as he called the name of McLaggen’s house into the green flames and was off. Harry, still holding a grudge against floo travel, chose to walk back to Grimmauld Place. Ron and Hermione were staying with Hermione’s parents for the weekend going over wedding plans. He’d finally have the house to himself, and it was the perfect opportunity for him to have Davies over for the night without interruptions. 

******************

The relaxed work environment that Harry and Draco had been enjoying since setting up their bosses came crashing to a halt the week before Christmas. Harry arrived at his desk ten minutes early, but found Percy standing in front of it with his arms crossed and a stack of papers already in his inbox. Draco found himself in a similar situation when he arrived to work that morning. The only difference was that while Percy was quietly seething at Harry’s desk, Oliver’s frustration had already boiled over. Draco had to duck as Oliver ripped a bat off his wall and hit a well aimed decorative bludger towards his head. Oliver, having just noticed that Draco had entered the office, dropped the bat unceremoniously at his feet.

“Oi, Malfoy. You’d find it perfectly acceptable to go to a concert for a date, yeah?” Malfoy raised his eyebrows and began to open his mouth to reply when Oliver cut him off, “I mean the Weird Sisters are well-known. They were huge during our Hogwarts days. Seats in the second row, who could complain? But no, that pompous, boring piece of-” Oliver was cut off by a memo zooming past him and hitting Draco square in the chest. Oliver sighed, the sudden arrival of the paper plane having knocked the wind out of his rant. “Best take care of that, Malfoy.” He said in a clearly dismissive tone. 

Draco wasted no time in exiting the office and opening the note.

_SOS. Mission is severely compromised -H_

_No kidding,_ Draco thought to himself. He didn’t know a lot about Percy, but he knew enough to know a Weird Sisters concert was so far out of the realm of enjoyment for an uptight dud like Percy. Now he was going to not only have to work late tonight, but he was also going to have to figure out a way to fix this in time to create the Christmas holiday Harry needed their bosses to take so badly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. He would stay calm and he would solve this problem.

Harry finished sending off the memo to Draco right as Percy came back out of his office in a huff. After having left three reports on Harry’s desk for him to finish, Percy had stormed off and shut his office door with just a bit more force than would be considered polite but short of slamming it.

“I mean, honestly, is it that odd to enjoy the classics? The Weird Sisters, really? I mean, surely you’re into that sort of plebian nonsense, but I’d bet Granger doesn’t listen to that drivel.” Percy said. It was clear to Harry that Percy was even more upset than the glares and shut doors implied because he so rarely acknowledged Harry’s existence beyond piling work up for him to take care of. 

“I think the classics are good. Uhm, so are the Weird Sisters? I guess it’s all good if you like music?” Harry said, quickly trying to figure out how to salvage the situation. 

“Yes, well, I would hope it would be clear a man of my caliber would be interested in something more refined. Anyone worth associating with would be able to tell that.” Percy said, slightly puffing his chest before his eyes darted to the pile of papers on Harry’s desk. “Please organize this mess and finish those reports. I don’t employ you to be an office decoration.” Percy turned on his heel and strode back into his office. This time the door did slam, so hard that the mug on Harry’s desk rattled and nearly fell over. 

******************

Draco got off on Harry’s floor and rolled his shoulders to release some of the kinks that had developed from being hunched over his desk all day. Oliver’s foul mood had translated to a work day that rivaled some of his worst pre-set up days. When Draco rounded the corner to Harry’s desk, he quickly realized Harry’s day hadn’t been much better. Harry was sitting in his chair with his head down on his desk, lightly banging it against the wood and muttering to himself.

“Potter, you do know if you keep doing that a lightning bolt won’t be the only scar on your forehead?”

“I’m really just hoping it might cause enough brain damage for me to reasonably quit.” Harry responded, lifting his head up and tilting it back against the chair. 

“Now that I have your attention,” Malfoy leaned on the desk. “Why did you let them go to a concert?”

“Let them? I had no idea they were going. Oliver purchased the tickets, why didn’t _you_ talk him out of it?”

“I assumed it was your idea!” Draco exclaimed.

“To send the most dull and conservative person alive to a rock concert? You may think I’m slow, Malfoy, but even I could see that spelled trouble” 

“I can’t pretend to understand the inner workings of your mind, Potter.” Draco crossed his arms angrily. “We need to fix this, and quickly.”

“Obviously. Percy made some comments about any man worth knowing would be aware he has a more ‘refined’ taste… So can we get them both somewhere that meets Percy’s ridiculous standards that also won’t bore the pants off Oliver?”

“Well maybe it doesn’t need to be a full fledged date. Oliver feels like an idiot for picking something Percy hated and Percy wants to be recognized for having taste. I suppose I could sacrifice one of the vintage reds from the Malfoy cellars for the cause. Pinot Noir or Cabernet?”

“I think Percy likes red wine?” Harry asked with clear confusion.

“You dolt, they’re both reds. I should’ve known better than to ask you. You probably had never expanded your palette beyond firewhiskey before I took you out in Diagon Alley. I’ll give him the Pinot. I have more of it at my flat and I prefer Cabernet anyway.”

******************

It took a few days, but the vintage pinot from Oliver (provided by Draco) and a bouquet of roses adorned with small, enchanted broomsticks with a small handwritten note signed by Percy (but purchased by Harry) seemed to do the trick. Harry left the office on time, and felt particularly good about how this was all going. 

Harry had sent an owl to Davies before shit hit the fan at work inviting him to be his plus one to Weasley Christmas and Ron and Hermione’s engagement party. It had been a bold move, but Harry prided himself on being a man of action.

He was so caught up in the implosion of Percy and Oliver’s failed date (and the mountains of work that followed), that he hadn’t had time to think about the fact that Davies had never responded. But now that the Holiday Trip was back on, and Harry was back to a more manageable schedule, he realized that it had been several days since he had spoken with Hogwarts Hottie.

Fueled by the adrenaline of a successful fix, and his own proclivity for rash decisions, Harry apparated to Roger’s flat instead of Grimmauld Place. He knocked on the door and Davies answered.

“Oh, hello. Come in, I guess,” Roger said reluctantly. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Work has been insane lately,” Harry said, making himself at home on the couch. Roger hastily straightened some of the pieces of parchment that had been strewn on the coffee table in front of Harry. “Did you get my owl the other day? The one about going to The Burrow?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“I didn’t know how to say it without sounding like an absolute prat,” Roger said “So I hoped that by not responding you would understand.” Harry stared at him blankly. 

“I have a good time with you,” Davies continued when it was clear that Harry was not going to say anything. “But I don’t think I’m ready to make that kind of commitment.”

“It’s just dinner at The Burrow and an engagement party!” Harry said. 

“Yeah but this,” Davies said pointing to Harry and then to himself. “This is just shagging. It’s not meet-the-parents (or best friends). It’s not spend holidays with each other. It’s blowing off steam after work. It’s getting laid.”

“It could be more, couldn’t it?” Harry slammed his palm on the table and some of the parchment that Roger had so neatly stacked flew into the air. Harry reflexively reached out and caught one. As he set it down, he saw a familiar name scrawled on the top. “What’s this?”

“Just a letter I was drafting,” Roger said hurriedly and went to snatch it back. But Harry was too quick for him and had already begun to read what was written. A lot had been scratched out with edits in the margins, and even though it appeared to be the first of many pages Harry was able to get the gist.

“You’re writing to Pansy to give The Prophet a scoop on what it’s like to sleep with the-boy-who-lived?” Harry was furious. “So you don’t want to be my boyfriend but you’re fine with telling the entire world that you slept with me? Did you only invite me home that night after the bar because you figured you could get a nice paycheck from a gossip column out of it?”

Harry didn’t wait to hear Roger’s reply. He had already shredded the paper that was in his hand and scooped up the rest of the papers. He slammed the door behind him and began the long walk back to Grimmauld Place. That was not at all how he had planned on this going.

******************

Draco hurried out of Malfoy Manor on Christmas morning. As glad as he was that he and Harry had managed to smooth over Percy and Oliver’s first big fight in enough time for the Christmas Holiday Trip to still happen, he realized as soon as he stepped foot on the sprawling grounds just how much he relied on the excuse of working for Wood to get through the holiday season.

He loved his mother dearly, but he had made it a point to avoid going to Malfoy Manor to visit. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, it was just that being in the house that morning had reminded him of a lot of bad memories of his teenage years and of his father. As soon as he had finished his filial duties, he quickly spluttered out a ‘have to get to a Quidditch Match’ and ‘love you’, and left.

Pansy was out of town for the holiday, so he expected his flat to be empty when he arrived home. So it came as some surprise when he could hear loud voices from outside the front door. He opened the door slowly and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the voices belonged to Ginny and Harry who were lounging on the living room furniture.

“What are you doing here?” Draco directed the question at both of them. 

“I realized that the outfit I wanted to wear today was here,” Ginny said and held up a pile of clothes. “And Harry was actually here looking for me. He needed some relationship advice regarding Hogwarts Hottie that wasn’t from Hermione or Ron.”

“It’s lucky we were here though,” Ginny continued, putting the clothes down on a chair and walking over to the kitchen table where an unopened letter was laying. “This came for you a few minutes ago.”

Draco picked the letter up and read it quickly. It was from Cormac telling him that one of the chasers had backed out of the tournament, so please, for the love of merlin, find a seventh because he was too busy to find one himself. 

“Do you have plans today, Ginny?” Draco asked. 

“Not for a few hours...why?”

“Cormac needs another chaser for the Quidditch match today, and you’re the only person I can think of on such short notice. Fancy playing a round?” 

Ginny smiled in response and disappeared into Pansy’s room. When she emerged a few minutes later she was wearing her Quidditch gear and holding her broomstick. “Harry, you should come too!”

“No, I’m not really in the mood for Quidditch right now because of…” Harry trailed off waving his hand dismissively, but Draco knew he was referring to Davies. “Besides, I don’t have a broomstick here.”

“And also, we only needed a chaser. The position of seeker has already been filled,” Draco snapped. 

“Oh come on, Malfoy let him come. You don’t have to play, Harry,” Ginny turned to him. “But I think watching some Quidditch and being outside would be good for you. Get your mind off Hottie for a little while.”

“Fine, whatever. But we better leave now so we’re not late. And Potter, do try to keep any rude or sarcastic comments to a minimum around my boyfriend today. I don’t want to have to deal with your critiques, I just want to have a good time playing Quidditch.” Draco added in a whisper as the trio apparated to the Quidditch pitch.

******************

“You remember Ginny Weasley, I’m sure,” Draco said gesturing to the redhead next to him as an introduction. Cormac was beaming. 

“Oh, there’s no way that we’ll lose today!” Cormac declared. “Especially with Weasley AND Potter on the team. You were a questionable Captain but a fantastic Seeker.”

“He’s not--”

“--I’m not here to play,” Harry said quickly. “Just a spectator.”

“He doesn’t even have a broomstick!” Draco added.

“He can use yours,” Cormac replied. Draco’s hands instinctively clutched his broom tighter. “If Harry’s playing Seeker you won’t need it.”

“But…”

“Honey,” Cormac said in a stage whisper. “You know how important this match is to me, and you know that I have the best chance of winning if he’s the Seeker.”

Draco sucked in a breath and handed his broomstick to Harry reluctantly. Harry didn’t accept.

“No, honestly,” Harry said. “I’m just here to watch. I haven’t played Quidditch in a decade.”

“Just take it Potter. Let off some Davies related steam, I’ll just go sit over there,” Draco waved in the direction of the makeshift bleachers and sulked over, as Harry hesitantly accepted the broom. 

A wave of emotions raced through Draco as he transfigured the wooden bench into a more comfortable chair. He was frustrated that even so many years removed from Hogwarts, Harry Potter was still overshadowing him. And he was mad that winning seemed to be more important to Cormac than he was. But as he watched Potter circle around the Quidditch pitch looking for the snitch, he could tell that it was helping Potter’s mood. Although he was loath to admit it, Potter was a better Seeker than he was, and was certainly a better seeker than his opposition so at least this game would end quickly.

Ten minutes later, Harry dropped into a dive and ended the game before the other team was even able to make any attempts at scoring a goal. Harry was feeling better after being in the air, so he figured keeping Cormac from doing anything useful in the game would be a good way to thank Draco for letting him play.

“I told you Cormac was a jerk,” Harry said, approaching Draco after the match was over and handing him his broomstick.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Draco waved him off dismissively. “You and Ginny can both tell me ‘I told you so.’”

“Would it make you feel better to know that Davies was also a jerk?” Harry asked.

“Why would it make me feel better?” 

“Didn’t you once tell me that misery loves company?”

“I guess I did,” Draco stopped walking away and turned to face Harry. “What did Davies do?”

“Oh,” Harry said, clearly not expecting him to actually ask this. “He decided to try to profit off sleeping with me by writing to Pansy about our...relationship, if you could even call it that.”

“That _is_ shitty.” Draco replied. “But it seems like Quidditch helped, and you know I wouldn’t have let Pansy run that article even if she wanted to.”

“Uh, thanks.” Harry was taken aback slightly. “Do you want to go to The Burrow with me?” The words tumbled out of Harry’s mouth before he could stop them. 

“The Burrow?”

“The Weasley’s house. For the engagement party and Christmas dinner. I had already hinted that I’d be bringing Hogwarts Hottie so there will definitely be plenty of food. It’ll get your mind off what a jerk Cormac is, and I’m sure any one of the Weasleys would be happy to talk shit about him if you wanted.” Harry shrugged, trying to make it look like he didn’t care either way what Draco’s response was.

“Are you sure they would want me there? Just in case you forgot,” He raised his sleeve quickly to remind Harry of the Dark Mark branded on his forearm.

“They’ll get over it,” Harry said, putting his arm around Draco’s shoulders amicably. “Ginny and I will both vouch for you. Come on.”

“Is it really called The Burrow?” Harry just laughed in response.

******************

With a name like The Burrow, Draco had been sure that the Weasley’s lived under the ground, perhaps like a pack of nifflers. Instead of an intricate collection of tunnels, Draco took in a home that was made up of several haphazardly constructed stories. It was no Malfoy Manor, but Draco hadn’t expected it to be. What surprised Draco most as he followed Harry into the home, was that despite its shabby appearance The Burrow felt more lived in and loved than his home ever had. 

“Oh, Harry!” Molly Weasley’s voice rang out. “I’m so glad you finally made it!” Harry was immediately enveloped in a hug.

“I brought a friend,” Harry said, carefully removing himself from her grip. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course, any friend of yours is welcome here, there’s plenty of food.” Mrs. Weasley grinned, although it faltered slightly when Draco appeared from behind Harry. Draco stuck out his hand for a handshake, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she wrapped him up in a bear hug as well. “Happy Christmas!”

“I’m sorry we don’t have a gift for you,” Molly said to Draco, as she handed Harry what was clearly a Weasley sweater. “Harry, dear, didn’t tell us who he was bringing.”

“That’s quite alright,” Draco shrugged. “I was a last minute invitation.”

Mrs. Weasley ushered them to the table as Harry pulled the maroon and gold striped sweater over his button down. 

“Is _Malfoy_ Hogwarts Hottie?!” Ron asked Harry a little too loudly when he sat down. Harry quickly shook his head. Draco looked away. Mrs. Weasley walked in from the kitchen holding up her wand with dozens of dishes following behind her in the air.

“Before we tuck in,” Ginny said, standing and raising her glass. “I’d like to make a toast to my good friend and brother.” The rest of the party raised their glasses as well.

“While I can’t imagine anyone willingly subjecting themselves to my brother, nor him finding someone so exponentially out of his league-” Ginny faltered as Ron made a valiant effort to kick her under the table, “I am very happy for the two of you. It’s also nice that Ron removed his head from his arse and finally realized he should lock Hermione in before she wised up and ran off with Viktor Krum.” Ginny deftly stepped to the other side of her chair before Ron could make a second attempt at kicking her. “Cheers to the happy couple!” Everyone took a healthy swig from their glass and conversation resumed around the table.

After dinner, the firewhiskey kept flowing. The party moved outside to a tent that the Weasleys had enchanted to stay warm. Music was playing, and the crowd was loud and laughing. Draco very quickly noticed that Harry’s dancing skills had not improved since the Yule Ball. If anything, they seemed to have gotten worse with age and alcohol.

“Potter, I don’t think this song requires looking like a bowtruckle. I think there should be some rhythm involved.” Draco barely suppressed a laugh. Harry stopped moving and rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t do much better. This isn’t exactly the beat for a waltz.”

“True, which is why I’m not attempting it and risk making a fool of myself. You, on the other hand…” 

“Well, Malfoy, I think you might just need to try loosening up a bit. No one’s paying us any attention right now anyway.” Harry gestured around to the group that was spaced sporadically throughout the tent. “Now is as safe of a time as any.” Harry grabbed Draco’s arm to pull him toward himself and began flailing about more earnestly than before. 

“Potter, this is utterly ridiculous.” Draco said, as Harry bopped his head and moved his arms about in a chaotic fashion. Draco stepped out of Harry’s reach and raised his eyebrow at Harry.

Harry, realizing Malfoy wasn’t going to join him, and still drunk from dinner and the drinking that followed, stopped mid-flail.

“Malfoy, I’ve worked up an appetite with all of this dancing. I need Indian food right now. Want to get out of here?”

Draco, without hesitating, grabbed Harry’s wrist and they spun out of sight. Only Ginny had been close enough to see the exchange, and she smiled to herself as she explained to her mother a few minutes later that Harry was sorry that he had rushed off so quickly, but that he had a lovely time.

“But I made samosas just for him!” Mrs. Weasley cried, holding the platter in front of her.

“Just send some home with Hermione and Ron,” Ginny said, taking a handful for herself. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

******************

Harry and Draco reappeared in an alley a block from an Indian restaurant that was near the Ministry. Harry felt his stomach flip as he recovered from their abrupt disapparation. Their shoulders bumped into each other occasionally as they rushed to get to where delicious food was waiting for them. The thought quickly passed through Harry’s mind that the feeling in his stomach was not entirely unpleasant and he wondered if there was more to it than just the effects of side-along apparation. He didn’t have time to dwell on it because he found himself seated at a table with a menu propped in front of him.

They each placed their order when the waiter came over to check on them, and before they knew it the chicken tikka masala, lamb kabobs, and naan were placed in front of them. Harry dove in greedily, and Draco took a dignified bite.

“Why are you working for Percy if you want to be an auror?” Draco asked suddenly.

“You’re aware that there are a lot of tests you have to take to become an auror, right?” Harry swallowed some of his chicken tikka masala. “Most of them are practical and written exams, but there are a few that are more like personality evaluations. I was doing fine. But then the Department decided that I was too hot headed and could be a liability because of an ‘unprecedented need to save everyone on my own without any consideration of the consequences’. I don’t see what’s wrong with saving everyone.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Draco said solemnly. “But sometimes you can’t do everything on your own, trust me I know. If the aurors are supposed to be a team, then you have to let them help you.”

“Anyway,” Harry shoved more food into his mouth. “They put me on desk duty with Percy because he only takes calculated risks and they thought maybe I would learn from that experience.”

“And are you?” Draco asked.

“I guess.”

“If the auror thing doesn’t work out, what would you do instead? I can’t imagine you’d be able to live with yourself if you had to work for Percy forever.”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Harry said, fiddling with his napkin. “Being an auror has been my dream since I was 14. Granted, some of that drive is fueled by a need to prove Umbridge wrong,” Harry laughed a bit to himself before becoming subdued, “but I still can’t really imagine a scenario when I’m not out saving the day.”

“But you’ve already saved the world in the biggest possible way. You didn’t have to be an auror to do that.”

“Yeah, Hermione is constantly on me about my ‘savior complex’, I suppose she might have a point though,” Harry shrugged and brushed the torn napkin bits to the side of the table.

“There are other ways to save the day besides being a glorified wizard cop. Especially if it’s motivated at all by trying to prove that frilly pink toad wrong“

“What about you, Malfoy?” Harry changed the subject. “Why are you working for Oliver? Surely you have enough of an inheritance to never have to work.”

“I believe I mentioned that my father died in Azkaban, yes?” Draco pushed his food around with his fork. “The Ministry took a lot of our fortune as retribution for our crimes. And the Malfoy name does not go nearly as far as it used to. The job with Oliver was the only one that I could get that wasn’t a complete embarrassment. I’ve always fancied going back to Hogwarts to teach Potions but I doubt McGonagall would give me a job.”

“She might surprise you,” Harry said. “I could always put in a good word if you wanted me to…”

“I’ll think about it.” Draco answered quietly. “But working for Oliver hasn’t been so bad lately.” 

“I know what you mean,” Harry nodded. “It’s not so bad when I get to leave the office on time and don’t get called in on weekends.”

“That’s only part of it,” Draco busied himself with eating his food, as Harry waited for more of an explanation. Instead of elaborating, Draco swore.

“Oh shit,” Draco stopped eating and began to dab at his shirt with a napkin. A bright orange stain had appeared on his otherwise pristine shirt. He knew he couldn’t use magic around muggles, but he also didn’t want to look like a slob in public.

Harry stood up, and without thinking, he removed his Weasley sweater. The process was a lot less coordinated than Harry would have liked because he was still drunk from the party. He hastily pulled down the corner of his button-down that had started to ride up when he took off his sweater, but not before Draco caught a glimpse. Draco swallowed.

Harry sat back down, and leaned over the table to pass Draco the sweater. As he did so, their hands brushed and Harry felt the same sensation from earlier. He wondered if it was just him, or if Draco was feeling it too. Draco put on the sweater and looked up at Harry. Somehow in the exchange they had become incredibly close. Their faces were only inches apart, and Harry was able to see that Draco’s eyes weren’t a solid gray like he had always thought, but actually had flecks of blue in them.

Draco began to close the gap between them. Harry blinked slowly. 

The waiter subtly cleared his throat as he placed the check on the table, and they were brought back to reality. The spell was broken. Draco’s eyes widened. He hastily fished a note out of his pocket and mumbled a quick thank you to Harry for the sweater before sprinting out the door.

Harry heard the distinct pop of Draco disapparating and leaned back in his seat, very confused. He shook his head, as if that would help clear it. But the image of Draco, looking slightly disheveled and wearing his Weasley sweater, wouldn’t leave his mind no matter how hard he tried.


	4. Say It Ain't So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by 5 white claws, 1 beer, a thai iced tea, a Celtics win in Game 5, singing Betty by Taylor Swift, general exasperation at our dweebdom, and learning the definition of the word "simp/simping"

Chapter 4: Say It Ain’t So

If Draco had his way, he would have continued to avoid Harry Potter for as long as he was employed at the Ministry of Magic. He spent a not insignificant amount of time replaying the events of Christmas Day in his mind and he’d never be able to look Potter in the face after his unceremonious departure. 

But luck was rarely on Draco’s side, and a few weeks after Christmas, Oliver requested his presence in one of the conference rooms. This was unusual, only because Draco was the one in charge of scheduling meetings and the calendar was empty. Draco entered the room, and fought the urge to walk right back out when he saw that Percy and Harry were also in attendance. Harry tried to silently get Draco’s attention, but Draco stubbornly refused to look his way.

“You’re probably wondering why Oliver and I called this meeting,” Percy began.

“Uh...yes.” Harry and Draco answered in unison. Draco snuck a glance over in Harry’s direction and Harry shrugged.

“We’ve decided that we’d like to move in together.” Oliver said.

“It makes sense, with our combined incomes we can afford some place much nicer and closer to work.” Percy added.

“And also, we’ve been spending so much time together, it seemed like the next logical step on our relationship.”

“And, what does that have to do with us?” Harry asked.

“Well, Potter, as our assistants, you and Mr. Malfoy here, are going to find us the perfect place to live.” Percy explained.

“We hope you’ll be able to put aside your differences to work together.” Oliver finished and then ushered Harry and Draco back out of the conference room making sure they both knew that while finding a new flat was the priority, they also shouldn’t forget about any of their other responsibilities.

******************

Harry spotted Draco later that afternoon. He wasn’t sure exactly why Draco had been avoiding him like the plague, but he figured that whatever he’d done to offend Draco would be forgotten now that they had to house hunt together. 

“Malfoy!” Harry began, realizing that Draco had started briskly walking away as soon as he saw Harry. “Seriously, wait up!”

“Oh, Potter, didn’t see you there.” Draco said, swiftly turning on his heel and picking lint off his robes in a bad attempt at nonchalance. 

“Er, right. Sure you didn’t… Anyway, I wondered if you might want to grab dinner, or I mean, food, something casual,” Harry stammered out. _Merlin, why am I being so awkward?_ He thought.

“Where did you have in mind? Hopefully not anything that’ll keep me too late, I’m hoping to see Cormac this evening.” Harry tried not to be disappointed that Draco was still going to McLaggen’s. Harry had hoped Draco would’ve cut him off after the quidditch incident, but apparently Draco didn’t realize he deserved better.

“Can’t say that I had thought of a specific place.” Harry finally answered. “Anywhere you want to go?”

“I know just the place.” Draco smirked, as he strode toward the doors of the exit of the Ministry. Harry, having paused in confusion at Draco’s confidence in a restaurant, had to sprint to catch up to him.

“The diner,” Harry bit his lip uncomfortably. 

“Yes, Potter,” Malfoy answered. He had hoped that by picking the diner, Harry would feel as awkward as he did so they would be on more even ground. “It seemed like a fitting locale, since this is where it all began and now we’ve successfully convinced our bosses that they like each other so much that they’re going to move in together.”

Harry and Draco sat down at a table and the same waitress as before brought them a menu. Draco glanced over the top of his menu at Harry. 

“So did you want to discuss the housing arrangement?” Draco asked.

“Uh. Yeah, eventually.” Harry stalled. “But there was actually something else I wanted to ask you.” 

“Go ahead, Potter,” Draco said, covering his blush with the menu. “I’m all ears.”

“Do you, err, want to go to Ron and Hermione’s wedding with me?” Harry spluttered. “Just as friends, I know you’re with McLaggen and all. But I had fun when we hung out in a not-work setting before, and I got the impression that you did too, so I thought maybe…”

“Not that I’m trying to be disagreeable,” Draco replied slowly. “But I don’t exactly think I’d be welcome at a Weasley wedding.”

“But you went to Christmas dinner and their engagement party!”

“Yeah, but that was different. It was a holiday and I was an unexpected guest, of course they were going to act like it was okay. But this is a _wedding_ , they’re not going to want me there.”

“It’d be fine! Your past is ancient history at this point, they aren’t going to hold it against you, especially if you’re with me.”

“Oh yes, of course, how silly of me,” Draco’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “They’ll just welcome me, a former death eater, with open arms and throw flowers at my feet on the most important day of their lives.”

“Do you trust me?” Harry asked. “Because I’m telling you now, that it’s going to be fine, Draco. Will you just fucking go with me, please?”

“You called me Draco.” 

“It’s your name.”

“Yeah,” Draco answered. “But, usually, you refer to me as Malfoy.”

“I guess,” Harry shrugged. “It just feels like last names are so impersonal... for people you’re acquaintances with or don’t particularly like, and I thought that we’d reached the point where we were actually, maybe, friends. I wasn’t wrong about that, was I?”

“You Gryffindors and your sentimentality,” Draco rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “I suppose we are friends...Harry. I’ll consider your offer. It’s not a yes yet, but it’s not necessarily a no.”

“I’ll take it,” Harry smiled back and waved the waitress over to take their orders.

******************

Draco hurried down the sidewalk toward Cormac’s. He had barely seen him since Christmas and while he was still a little miffed about being sidelined in favor of Harry, he also wanted to get laid. Draco managed to not scowl while rapping the hideous door-knocker and waited for Cormac or his house elf to answer the door. He hadn’t owled ahead of time, but he figured Cormac would be as desperate for a lay as he was, so the lack of courtesy would be forgiven. When the door still hadn’t been opened a minute later, Draco began to get truly impatient. He was just about to knock on the door again, when the house elf opened the door.

“Please come in, Mr. Malfoy.” The house elf said, bowing just enough to not be considered impolite. Draco nodded at the elf and began to walk toward the parlor when he heard not only Cormac, but another very familiar voice.

“Those sound truly fascinating. I’d love to see them.” The familiar voice spoke.

“Then I’ll be back shortly, I’ll grab those scrolls and the antique quills I was telling you about.” Draco heard Cormac say. Draco entered the parlor to be faced with the owner of the familiar voice.

“Oh Draco, hello. What business do you have with Cormac?”

Draco, thoroughly confused why Cormac was entertaining anyone other than him at 8PM on a Friday night, managed to pull his wits together.

“I figured I would drop by to say hello. I wasn’t aware he’d have company. I didn’t know the two of you were friends, _Percy_.” 

“We just recently began talking. Cormac’s uncle is an old friend and he suggested Cormac and I get to know each other better. He thinks we’d make a fine match.” Percy didn’t notice Draco’s brief moment of shock. The one positive of growing up a Malfoy was his ability to quickly school his features into a mask of indifference. “Please understand this is a matter of utmost privacy, of course.” Percy continued. 

“I understand the need for discretion perfectly.” Draco said, turning toward where Cormac had just re-entered the room. Cormac briefly fumbled the scrolls and quills he was carrying before placing them on the coffee table in front of Percy.

“Draco, I didn’t know you would be stopping by. I’m rather busy.”

“Evidently.” Draco said, staring hard at Cormac.

“Well Cormac, I am curious as to how Draco and you became friends. A rather odd pairing, I think.” Percy interrupted, clearly missing the anxiety rolling off Cormac in waves and Draco’s nearly _too_ collected demeanor.

“We aren’t friends really, right Draco? Acquaintances at best. Just know each other in passing.” 

“Yes, Percy. Cormac and I are hardly _friends_. In fact, I would hardly call us anything at all. I will be leaving. Have a _lovely_ evening. The two of you surely deserve each other.” Draco pulled the cloak he hadn’t removed tightly around himself and began to exit the room when Cormac crossed the floor to meet him.

“I’ll see you out, Draco.” Cormac said tersely, then continued to Percy, “It’s only polite to see a guest out.”

Cormac had taken a rather tight grip of Draco’s elbow and was briskly walking him toward the door. Draco rolled his eyes, as if he wasn’t in a hurry himself to leave Cormac’s stupid flat. 

“Well that was certainly eye-opening, Cormac. Thank you ever so much for letting me know we had apparently broken up.” Draco said pointedly. 

“Draco, you and I both know we were casually dating at best,” Draco almost interrupted but Cormac blazed on, “and I have a reputation to think of. Shacking up with a former Death Eater from one of the most disgraced families in the wizarding world? Surely you had to know I wasn’t serious. Percy comes from a family of war heroes. He’s quite well-off and is a respected member of the Ministry. You understand, right?”

“Perfectly. Fuck off, McLaggen.” Draco said, holding his head high as he left Cormac’s flat with at least a shred of dignity left.

******************

Harry was running late, again. He had underestimated just how long some of his work tasks were going to take that morning and it wasn’t until a paper crane landed on his desk with a very curt where are you? we’re supposed to be at the open house in fifteen minutes that he even realized what time it was. 

He rushed around his desk and tried to finish at least one assignment before he left to meet Draco at the row house they were looking at for Percy and Oliver. He checked his watch, ten more minutes, Draco was going to be annoyed. He was just about to head out when a delivery wizard approached him.

“Delivery for Percy Weasley.” The wizard said. He had a large bouquet of flowers in one arm and handed Harry a delivery slip to sign with his other. Harry signed his name without much thought, put the flowers on Percy’s desk and sprinted to the lifts. Draco was waiting in the atrium with his winter coat and scarf.

“Did you forget that it was winter, Potter?” Draco rolled his eyes fondly, eyeing Harry’s lack of outerwear.

“Shit.” Harry said, patting himself down. “I was trying to get some work done before I came upstairs and I must have forgotten my cloak. Go on without me, I’ll just meet you at the house.”

Draco nodded and headed out, while Harry turned around and pushed the lift button several times, even though he knew that would not make it arrive any faster. When he finally made it back to his desk an eternity (but actually, only a few minutes) later, he noticed that Percy was in his office on the phone.

Harry grabbed his coat, and paused for a minute to listen in on Percy’s conversation.

“Thank you for the flowers,” Percy said, twirling the note from the arrangement between his fingers. “You have very sophisticated taste.” There was a pause while the person on the other end of the phone spoke.

“Uh huh, yes.” Percy continued. “Oh, it looks like Potter just arrived. I’ll let him know to clear my schedule. I look forward to our date.” Percy waved Harry into his office.

“I’m actually just leaving,” Harry stuck his head in. “I have an appointment with Draco for a potential house for you and Oliver.”

“Right, right,” Percy said distractedly, still admiring the flowers on his desk. “While you’re with Mr. Malfoy, can you have him tell Oliver I won’t be available for our dinner this evening, something else has come up.” This surprised Harry, which is something that Percy rarely ever accomplished.

“Err, yes, I’ll let Malfoy know. What do you have planned instead? You don’t have any other appointments for tonight.” Harry asked curiously. 

“I’m going to have dinner with Cormac McLaggen, I believe he was a year or two younger than you at Hogwarts. He’s very well connected at the Ministry, and I think a relationship with him could be very advantageous.”

“What about Oliver?” Harry could feel the anger bubbling up inside of him. “Do you want me to stop looking at houses for the two of you?”

“Oh, gosh no!” Percy declared. “Things with Cormac are still very new! I wouldn’t want to put all of my eggs into one basket. Oliver is a perfectly suitable backup, and I don’t want to burn that bridge until absolutely necessary. I’ll keep things more casual with Oliver until I know for sure that things with Cormac are more concrete.”

“That’s very dishonest of you,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“That, Harry, my boy, is what taking a calculated risk is all about! You’ll keep this between the two of us.” Without confirming, Harry grabbed his coat from his desk and grumbled to himself for the entire trek to the open house.

By the time Harry walked into the terraced home, his mood had not improved at all. If anything, he was even grumpier than before. Now, instead of just being mad at Percy for being a prick (which, Harry had to admit, was par for the course), he had also worked himself into being mad at Draco. He hadn’t figured out how, but he knew this was all Draco’s fault.

“Oh, there you are, Harry!” Draco called from the empty living room. He was chatting amicably with the estate agent. “This home is beautiful, so much natural light!”

“ _Malfoy,_ ” Harry hissed, and grabbed Draco’s arm. “Can I speak with you for a moment.” He gave a strained smile to the estate agent who was grinning cheerfully. 

“What is it?” Draco asked as Harry led him towards the kitchen.

“We can’t keep doing this, I have to tell Oliver what’s going on.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We can’t keep lying to Oliver and Percy. We can’t let them buy this, or any, home together!”

“We aren’t lying, though.” Draco reasoned. “What has gotten into you? You didn’t have a problem with setting them up before.”

“We’re messing with their lives, Malfoy! It was one thing when it was a date here or there so that we could have some time off, but helping them move in together when they don’t even like each other…that’s just not right.”

“What do you mean, they don’t even like each other? Oliver seems pretty smitten to me.” Draco responded.

“That’s the problem!” Harry threw his hands up in the air. “Oliver only thinks that he likes Percy because we made him think that! Percy is not the charming guy that we painted him to be. He’s a social climber. He’s only interested in what will get him ahead in his job and he doesn’t care who he hurts along the way.”

“Before he was your boss,” Harry continued, “Oliver was my friend. And Percy is only using Oliver until something better comes along. Wood deserves better than to be Percy’s backup plan, and he’ll be furious when he finds out, especially if they spend all this money on a house.”

“You meant _if_ he finds out, right?” Draco corrected. “Because surely you’re not suggesting to me that after all of this, you’re going to tell Oliver. He would fire me, for sure. And I already confided in you that this was the best and only job I was able to find.”

“No. I meant when.” Harry said definitively. “Oh, by the way, Percy wants to cancel his dinner with Oliver tonight to go on a date with your boyfriend, McLaggen.”

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.” A muscle in Draco’s cheek twitched as he replied. “I broke up with him. Or he broke up with me. It all happened very fast a few weeks ago when I walked into his house and Percy---” He stopped suddenly. Harry’s face was full of rage, and he knew he had said too much.

“When Percy what, Malfoy.”  
‘  
“When,” Draco sighed. “When Percy was at his house discussing the arrangement that Cormac’s uncle had suggested.”

“This has been going on for weeks?” Harry was absolutely livid. “Why, for the love of Merlin, did you NOT TELL ME SOONER?!”

“Maybe it’s not one of the three emotions you’re capable of feeling Potter, but I was embarrassed!” Draco yelled back. “Do you have any idea how much it sucked to find out that the person you thought you were dating would rather date A WEASLEY than you because of the optics? I didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t think that it would matter.”

“Well maybe,” Harry retorted. “You should have considered the optics when you decided to align yourself with Voldemort.”

“I WAS SEVENTEEN!” Draco exclaimed. “You have no idea what it was like for me back then, and I’m not going to have this conversation with you right now when there are witnesses.” He motioned to the entrance to the kitchen where the estate agent was waiting patiently. He composed himself before turning to her.

“This house was very lovely. I’m sorry to cut this visit short, but I really must be going. I’ll talk to my boss, and we’ll be in touch.” He turned back to Harry. “If you tell Oliver about this, don’t bother speaking to me ever again.”

******************

“Oliver, can I talk to you?” Harry asked the next day at work. He had been skulking around waiting for a chance to catch Oliver when Draco wasn’t present. 

“I don’t have much time, what is it?” Oliver didn’t bother looking up from the stack of Quidditch game notes in front of him.

“It’s about Percy.” This caught Oliver’s attention. “I don’t think that you should move in with him. I think it’s too fast, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why would you think that?” Oliver asked.

“He’s been seeing Cormac.” Harry said with a straight face.

“Oh, that,” Oliver brushed it off. “That’s nothing. He told me about that. He’s been meeting with Cormac for a work related project. Maybe it’s above your pay grade. Thanks for looking out for me, Harry, but I’m good.”

“It’s not just that, it’s...” Harry trailed off. He thought about telling Oliver everything: that he and Draco had been pulling the puppet strings behind the scenes this entire time, that Draco knew better than anyone that Cormac’s relationship with Percy was not strictly work based, that Percy was just using Oliver to get a down payment on this house until Cormac made a commitment. But then he remembered the look on Draco’s face when he walked out of the flat the day before, and he hesitated. This hesitation was enough for Oliver to turn his attention back to the work on his desk and dismiss Harry.

Harry decided not to go back to his office right away. He didn’t know if he could face Percy right now, so he wandered around for half an hour before making his way back to his desk. When he got there, he found that his desk had been mostly cleared out and all of his personal effects were in a cardboard box.

“What the hell?” he muttered.

“Oh good,” Percy said bluntly, when he noticed Harry was back. “I took the liberty of starting to clean out your desk for you since you won’t be needing it anymore. You’re no longer my assistant. I’m firing you.”

“You’re firing me?” 

“Oliver told me what you said, and I can’t have an assistant who is going to undermine me in any way.” Percy crossed his arms. “I’ll be writing to the Auror Department to explain your departure, and to tell them that you do not have my recommendation for auror qualification.”

“You’re firing me.” Harry repeated.

“Yes, now please finish clearing out your desk and leave as soon as you’re finished with that.”

Harry was speechless. He couldn’t decide what felt worse: to be fired by Percy Weasley, of all people, or to know that his dream of becoming an auror was crumbling in front of him.

******************

Harry had been moping on the couch at Grimmauld Place all week. All of Hermione and Ron’s attempts to get him to move, go out, do _anything,_ had been unsuccessful. So unsuccessful, in fact, that they had decided it was time to bring in the cavalry. The floo firing to life barely caught Harry’s attention enough for him to loll his head to the side. Ginny walked into the living room and wasted no time in flicking Harry in the forehead.

“Alright, Mr. I Vanquished Voldemort, are you really letting my prissy, status seeking, absolute twat of a brother get you this upset?” Ginny put her hands on her hips, reminding Harry of a much scarier Molly Weasley. 

“Gin, you know it’s more than just Percy turning out to be just as bad, if not worse, than anticipated. I had started to actually _trust_ Malfoy. And lo and behold, he’s the same old selfish prick he’s always been.” Harry huffed. “Clearly cares more about his reputation than actual people’s happiness.” He turned on his side and away from Ginny.

“Seriously, Harry? Yeah sure, maybe Malfoy isn’t the 100% upstanding citizen you thought he was, but everyone is entitled to lapses in judgement. AND even if what he did was as egregious as you’re making it out to be in your own mind, is that really a good enough reason to lament on your couch for days?” Ginny grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn back toward her. “Come on, Harry Potter, where is that Gryffindor bravery?” 

“I suppose you’re right, Gin.” Harry said, resigning himself to the fact she would let him sulk no longer. 

“Plus, you reek.” Ginny added playfully.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’ll shower and cease all brooding activities.” Harry laughed and began to get up off of the couch.

“Good. And while you’re at it, I’d consider thinking about what you _actually_ want to do with your life. Being an auror was a great wish at 14 when the whole world was in wartime chaos… but we’ve all grown up and changed. Maybe it’s time your career path does too.” Ginny added, with more seriousness than she almost ever had around Harry.

“You’re right, as usual.” Harry ruffled Ginny’s hair, “I’ve got some thinking to do and I know that this isn’t the right place for that.”

“You always were the most clear-headed when on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch or trying to keep your wits about you around McGonagall. Maybe that’s the best place to be.”

“That’s not a half bad idea, Gin.” Harry responded. 

“All my ideas are much better than ‘half bad,’ I’ll have you know! And since, I’ve got you upright per Ron and Hermione’s request, I’ll be off. Pansy and I have plans. But let me know if you need a swift arse kicking again. I’m always happy to help.” And with that, Ginny left Grimmauld Place via the floo with as much dramatic flair as she had entered it with.

******************

Harry had owled McGonagall as soon as Ginny left. The now headmistress quickly replied that of course Harry was welcome at any time and he could drop by at his leisure so long as he didn’t disturb any lessons. Harry, after showering as Ginny had requested, grabbed his Firebolt 3 and apparated to Hogsmeade. The walk from the village to the castle gave Harry some time to clear his head. The air was crisp and cool, giving him a sense of clarity he never would’ve gotten cooped up in Grimmauld Place. When he finally reached the gates, he immediately made a course straight for the Quidditch pitch. A few laps around the goal posts would do him good.

On about lap six, he noticed a few students had gathered in the stands. By lap ten, it was more than a small crowd. He sighed to himself, he should’ve known better than to openly fly on the pitch wearing his old seeker jersey, especially when school was in session. Harry figured this was probably his cue to stop his quidditch endeavor and go to talk to McGonagall as he had really intended. He came to an abrupt stop on the ground and walked directly toward the castle, ignoring the gaggle of children whispering and following behind him. 

He was sad that the password to the Headmistress’s office wasn’t a candy like it was under Dumbledore, but he couldn’t help but smile when the statue asked him, “When is a door not a door?” and Harry responded, “When it’s ajar.” Harry was only vaguely insulted that McGonagall had sent him the answer to the riddle in her owl post response. He climbed the winding staircase up to where he found McGonagall at her desk, pouring over student’s papers.

“You’re still a very good flyer,” McGonagall pointed to her window. She had a clear view of the Quidditch pitch. “Did you have a good time?”

“Not as much as I would have liked,” Harry sighed. “I drew some unwanted attention when I was out there.”

“What really brought you to Hogwarts?” McGonagall asked pointedly, her glasses slipping down her nose slightly. “Clearly, it wasn’t just for the flying, otherwise you wouldn’t have come to my office.”

“Erm, well,” Harry started. He hadn’t realized how difficult it was going to be to admit to McGonagall that he didn’t want to be an auror. She was the first one to really believe in him and had even stood up to Umbridge on his account when it came to the OWLS needed to progress on the auror path. “I’m just not sure being an auror is right for me anymore. Feels like maybe I’ve spent enough time hunting down bad guys.” Harry managed to get out after his awkward silence.

“It took you long enough to come to that conclusion,” McGonagall smiled sagely. “I always had a feeling that you’d end up wanting to pursue a different career. I really believe that you would have been a great auror, Harry. You want to save the world, but there are other ways to do that.”

“So I’ve been told,” Harry muttered, thinking back to the conversation he’d had with Draco weeks before. “But I haven’t figured out what the other options are.”

“You’ve always had quite the skill with imparting knowledge on others, at least when it comes to defensive magic. I’d rather think going through Auror Academy would only make you more qualified.”

“More qualified for what?” Harry asked, still not understanding where McGonagall was going. McGonagall pursed her lips.

“Well Harry, we do have an opening here for next term… as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Professor Murphy has accepted a position at Ilvermorny, he missed the States too much to continue here. But it does leave Hogwarts in an utter predicament.”

“Are you… are you suggesting I take the post?” Harry couldn’t believe that a woman he’d spent his school years tormenting with his blatant disregard for rule following would be offering him a job.

“You’d have to apply, just like anyone else. However, I imagine the Board of Governors would be easily persuaded by a war hero known for his Expelliarmus teaching Defense.” McGonagall gave Harry a rare, genuine smile. 

“I’ll think about it, Professor.” Harry responded.

“Please, at this point, you can call me Minerva.” 

“Well, in that case...I’ll think about your offer, _Minerva._ ”

“Very good. I have a Transfiguration class to teach, so please take a biscuit and I trust you’ll be able to find your way out.” McGonagall stood and walked towards the door.

“Before you go,” Harry called out. “Are there any other openings?”

“There’s always unofficially an opening for the Potions position. Professor Slughorn has been saying every year that he would love to retire, and he has yet to do so. But, I really can’t in good conscience recommend that job for you.”

******************

Harry caught himself walking up to the owlery to send Draco a note about the Potions job, but then he remembered that Malfoy was probably still mad at him for telling Oliver and wouldn’t be interested in anything he had to say. Instead, he wandered back to Hogsmeade and stopped in Honeydukes to buy himself some sweets. He also picked up some sugar quills for Hermione, chocolate frogs for Ron, and acid pops for Ginny as a thank you for getting him to leave the couch.

He once again thought of Draco as he passed the display of licorice whips, Draco’s favorite. But his anger and hurt were still fresh, so he walked by and brought his other sweets to the counter to pay.


	5. Surprises Let Me Know He Cares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This final chapter brought to you by 4 Coors Lights, 1 mint tea, way too much packing for a move, and a roommate leaving for several days.

**Chapter Five: Surprises Let Me Know He Cares**

Draco groaned as he fumbled with his keys and finally unlocked the door to his flat. He used to enjoy the reduced workload that came from Oliver being preoccupied with fake bliss and Percy, but now all it did was give him more time to ruminate on how lonely he was. As if missing Cormac wasn’t frustrating enough, he was also beginning to think Harry might have been right about coming clean to Percy and Oliver. They were set to close on the row-house Draco and Harry had seen in three days and Draco felt like he, maybe, owed it to Oliver to keep him from making such a lasting commitment with someone who was as shady as Percy.

He hadn’t seen Harry around the office, so he assumed that he had told Oliver at least part of the situation and was following Draco’s request to cease communication. It was all making itself out to be an absolutely dreadful week. He was greeted with a loud pop when he entered the living room.

“I see what you meant, Pans, he really is like a walking advertisement for draught of living death.” Ginny was sucking on what appeared to be an acid pop. Pansy came into the room, clearly having just buttoned her blouse.

“Yeah, he’s been an utter tit the past week. You’d think that he’d be happy to be free of that twat, McLaggen. And yet…” Pansy reached down and made a grab for one of the acid pops in Ginny’s lap.

“Hey! Those are mine. I earned them fair and square for cheering up another utter tit I know.” Ginny playfully slapped at Pansy’s hand, getting her a glare from Pansy before she gave in and handed Pansy one.

“You do know that I am right here. I can hear everything you’re saying about me.” Draco interrupted.

“Did you hear something, Pans?” Ginny looked around the living room and pretended not to be able to see Draco.

“Nothing besides you, love.” Pansy looked Draco dead in the eyes as she said it. 

“But if someone were here and that someone was acting like a miserable mess… I think I would recommend that they think about _exactly when_ it was that they started feeling so miserable.” Ginny said.

Draco put his head in his hands and tried to pinpoint the moment when things turned to shit. It dawned on him that his fight with McLaggen, and subsequent breakup, happened nearly a month ago. Even though it was embarrassing and unpleasant, he had only been operating under this fog of gloom for the last week, so he couldn’t honestly attribute this feeling solely to his breakup.

“Oh dear, I think you may have broken him.” Pansy barely stifled a laugh at Draco’s expense. 

“It might help if you use your words,” Ginny prodded Draco with her foot.

“I guess my ‘miserable mood’,” Draco sighed, replaying the events of the last week. “Probably started when I had a row with Har--, I mean, Potter in the terrace house we were looking at for our bosses.”

“I have two questions for you.” Ginny squinted her eyes suspiciously. “Why were you fighting with Harry? And why were you both looking at the same house for your bosses?”

Now it was Draco’s turn to look a little confused. “The house was for Oliver and Percy,” he explained. “They’re moving in together in a couple of days...because of the plan...to set them up? And Harry and I were fighting about whether or not we should continue with said plan, among other things.”

“You set Oliver up with... _Percy?_ ” Ginny asked incredulously.

“Yes. It was your idea! Remember?”

_Ugh, boys are such idiots! This probably explains why Percy fired Harry,_ Ginny thought to herself. To Draco she exclaimed, “But I didn’t mean Percy, you absolute dunderhead! I meant my brother Charlie.”

“Charlie? How many Weasley’s are there?!” Draco’s utter confusion made Pansy laugh.

“‘Look, Draco,” Ginny replied. “You need to fix this thing with Oliver and Percy immediately. If you can manage to do that, I’ll help you fix the situation with Harry.”

“There’s nothing to fix with Potter. We only became friends because of this whole setting up our bosses thing. And since that’s clearly not happening anymore…” Draco trailed off. “Besides, he is convinced that I’m the same person I was at seventeen and I may have told him to never speak to me again.”

“You always were one for the dramatics, Draco. Luckily for you, Gin is a genius and can get you out of this hole you’ve dug yourself.” Pansy said, grabbing Ginny’s hand and squeezing.

“It might be too late to fix anything tonight. Percy and Oliver are supposed to be heading to a World Cup qualifying match,” Draco checked his watch. “Very soon. Maybe I’ll just try tomorrow.” 

“I’m not sure there is ever a right time to tell your boss that you’ve been lying to him and manipulating him into a relationship with a callous elitist. So, you can’t put it off until tomorrow. It feels like this might be a good time to fake some Gryffindor bravado and tell Oliver the truth.”

“That’s not really one of my strengths.” Draco mused.

“You can pay me in acid pops for my problem solving services.” Ginny smiled smugly. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Tick-tock, tick-tock.” Pansy pointed at her wrist where there wasn’t even a watch.

Draco rolled his eyes and vanished into the fireplace. He hoped he’d be able to stop them before they left for the match, otherwise he’d never hear the end of it from Ginny and Pansy.

“Merlin, I’m glad I like girls.” Pansy sighed, leaning back into the couch next to Ginny.

“I know. The emotional labor of explaining their own feelings to them is _exhausting._ ” Ginny replied, laying her head on Pansy’s shoulder.

******************

Oliver fetched the rusty kettle that he always had Draco set up as a portkey. Draco seemed a little off this last week...ever since he had told Percy about Harry’s strange outburst regarding Percy and Cormac and the plans for the house. Oliver briefly considered that maybe getting his assistant (and his assistant’s school rival) involved in his own personal life and house hunting was a step too far. But no, that was what Draco was here for, and he was normally a surprisingly efficient and hard worker. Perhaps when he and Percy got back from this Quidditch match and finished closing on the home, he would have some words with Draco and discuss his current underperformance. 

“‘We have a few more minutes before the portkey will be ready!” Oliver said, knocking on Percy’s office door and letting himself in.

“Oh wonderful! I’m looking forward to this. I haven’t had seats this good to a Quidditch match since the World Cup was in England and I went with my family!”

“It’ll also be good to spend some time together outside of work,” Oliver added. “It’s been awhile, you’ve been very busy.”

“Yeah, that too.” Percy replied distractedly. He quickly stuffed a letter into his cloak pocket.

They were waiting for the kettle to start glowing when the door swung open and Draco stood in the doorway. He was panting with his hands on his knees.

“I expected...you...to be...in...your office,” Draco huffed between breaths. He inhaled deeply and then composed himself. “I was hoping to catch you before you left, and then you weren’t in your office, so I ran here. Merlin, I’m glad you’re here.”

“What do you need?” Oliver asked impatiently. “The portkey will be ready any minute.”

“I’ll be quick, I promise.” Draco was beginning to wish that he had written something down. He preferred to be much more prepared than this, but there wasn’t enough time. “Oliver you’ve got to end this thing with Percy. You shouldn’t bring him to the Quidditch match, and more importantly you shouldn’t buy this house with him.”

“Do you always let your employees speak to you like that?” Percy whispered at Oliver. “You should fire him, it’s what I did.” Draco’s eyes widened slightly when he heard this. So that’s why he hadn’t seen Harry around...it was because he got fired. 

“Draco,” Oliver shook his head like he was talking to a small child. “If this is about Percy and Cormac, Harry already spoke to me about it. And I’ll tell you what I told him, Percy explained everything to me about how it was a work related thing and had nothing to do with our relationship.” Percy tensed slightly. Draco allowed himself a moment of relief when he realized that Harry hadn’t sold him out completely. He only warned Oliver about Percy but didn’t mention their involvement in the fiasco.

“Look,” Draco continued. “I don’t know what Percy explained. But if anybody knows about Cormac it’s me. We were involved for a while, until I showed up at his house a month ago and Percy was there. They were discussing how a relationship between the two of them would be advantageous. And so Cormac left me because dating a Weasley was better for the McLaggen brand. Percy is just waiting for the right moment to take their relationship public, he wants to make sure that it’s risk free so he’s using you as a backup.”

The tea kettle began to glow a radiant blue behind them, but nobody reached for it. Draco wasn’t used to being this honest and open, but he knew he was running out of time, so he powered through. 

“Percy was only dating you because Harry and I planned it. We set everything up from the beginning because we were both exhausted and wanted to be able to have social lives of our own. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, and maybe that’s why we were okay with it before but now….Oliver,” Draco turned his head so he was looking directly at Oliver when he spoke. “You’ve been my boss for years, and I’m incredibly grateful that you gave me a chance when nobody else would. And even though you apparently lack the ability to tell when your employees are being overworked, you still deserve to be with somebody who _actually_ wants to be with you for you and not for tickets to Quidditch games or co-signing houses that are close to work. Leave Percy. Let him fend for himself with Cormac, they’re both prats. But you deserve better.”

“A touching speech, Mr. Malfoy.” Percy said as he reached for the glowing kettle. But Oliver slapped his hand away.

“Is that true, Percy? Did you lie to me about the nature of your relationship with Cormac?” Percy gave a slight nod. “I don’t care about the Quidditch tickets, you wouldn’t be the first person to date me for those.” Oliver smiled slightly, but then frowned again. “But you lied to me, and that’s really not okay. I may not be the most successful when it comes to relationships, but I know what I’m worth. I’m going to go to this Quidditch game alone, and I’m going to keep my flat. If you want to move into that house, maybe Cormac will help you afford it.”

The last thing that Oliver heard as he grabbed the kettle and felt the customary, but unpleasant, tug of the portkey was Draco calling out: “Oh, and Oliver! I quit!”

******************

Finally, the wedding weekend had arrived. The night before, Hermione requested that all of the Weasleys and Harry be present at the Burrow so that they could run through the schedule for the wedding. Everything had to be perfect, and she wanted to make sure that everyone knew exactly what they were responsible for.

Molly Weasley, of course, insisted that they all stay for dinner afterwards. Harry noticed that Percy hadn’t made an appearance yet, so he was surprised when he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see Oliver standing there.

“Oliver!” Harry couldn’t hide his shock.

“I believe I owe you an apology,” Wood said, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. “I should have listened to you when you warned me about Percy in my office. I also didn’t expect Percy to fire you after I mentioned our conversation to him. Were you able to find employment elsewhere, would you like me to give you a recommendation to make up for everything?”

“Err, thanks.” Harry replied and rubbed the back of his neck. “I actually applied for a position at Hogwarts that I’m really excited about. Are you still with Percy? What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” Oliver smiled. “No, I saw the error of my ways and broke things off with Percy. But then, when I was at the World Cup qualifier in Romania, I ran into Charlie.” He gestured to the Weasley standing a few feet behind him, chatting with his siblings. “We just sort of hit it off right away.”

“I’m happy for you.” Harry gave him a small smile and patted him on his shoulder. He excused himself to go talk to Ginny and Pansy who had already taken their seats at the table.

“Mind if I join you?” Harry asked, motioning to an empty chair next to them.

“To what do we owe this pleasure, Harry?” Ginny looked over at him as he took a seat. Harry opened and closed his mouth several times trying to figure out how to ask the question that was on his mind.

“Potter, you look like a fish. Just spit it out.” Pansy smirked

“So Oliver is with Charlie instead of Percy now.” Harry finally said.

“It appears so,” Ginny said. “That’s the way it was supposed to be all along, you know. Lucky that Charlie happened to be at that Quidditch match. Thank Merlin Draco got there in time to stop Oliver.”

“Yeah, Charlie and Oliver makes a lot more sense and- wait, Draco stopped Oliver?!” Harry was both shocked and relieved that he didn’t have to bring Draco up in conversation, even though he was curious about how he was doing.

“Sure did,” Pansy nodded. “My girl here talked some sense into him. She didn’t tell him to quit his job though, I’m not sure why he thought that was a good idea.”

“He quit?”

“He didn’t tell us much about it,” Ginny answered. “Just that he didn’t want to be an assistant forever and maybe it was time to take a risk and do something he actually wanted to do.”

“Taking a risk? That doesn’t sound very much like Malfoy.” Harry pondered.

“What can I say, sometimes people change and surprise you.” Ginny shrugged. 

The rest of the family made their way over to the table and sat down. Everyone chatted loudly as plates and platters of food landed in front of them. Once everyone was seated, Ron and Hermione stood up.

“Can I have your attention?” Hermione asked, tapping the side of her glass to get everyone’s focus. 

“Oi! My future wife is talking!” Ron bellowed when the conversation didn’t stop. “Thank you.”

“Ron and I just wanted to thank everyone for joining us tonight, and tomorrow.” Hermione began. There were some polite nods and smiles from around the room. “Now as you all know, Ron and I did not exactly have the most pleasant of beginnings. I was somewhat, well, a bit of a know it all-”

“Insufferable, really,” Ron added. “Ow, still got that right arm on you!” He yelped as Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

“Anyway,” Hermione eyed Ron, daring him to interrupt her again, “Ron and I have come a long way from our first year. And we appreciate you all being here for us for the last decade. We cannot wait to share our special day with you tomorrow.”

“Cheers!” Ron yelled boisterously. Harry clinked his glass with Ginny and Pansy. He was happy for his best friends, but he couldn’t help feeling wistful about not having that type of bond for himself. 

******************

Harry was in the groom’s suite with Ron and George. Ron was the most calm Harry had ever seen him. 

“You’re pretty cool and collected for a bloke who’s about to get married.” Harry said, while he adjusted his tie. 

“I am always the picture of poise.” Ron responded with confidence.

“I’m not sure about that, I heard a very different story about your level of ‘poise’ during Quidditch tryouts sixth year.” George teased.

“That’s different, that was Quidditch!” Ron yelled. “I was convinced everyone was going to make fun of me.”

“What makes you think everyone isn’t going to make fun of you for this?” George answered.

“Because, as Ginny reminds me at every turn, ‘Hermione is much too good for me’. It’d be difficult to make fun of me for marrying someone out of my league.” Ron said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“He’s got you there, George. Plus, it’s hard to make fun of him when he does it so well himself, eh?” Harry laughed.

“You’re probably right. Gotta save some of my jokes for the reception anyway.” George winked as he went to grab his suit jacket off the hanger next to them. Just then, a somewhat distressed Ginny popped her head in.

“Harry, your assistance, _please._ ” She said, gesturing frantically for Harry to join her outside. 

“Yes, I’ll, uhm, get right to that, Gin. Ron, George, be right back.” Harry began to leave the suite and tried to not let Ron know how panicked Ginny sounded and looked.

“What is going on, you look-” Harry began in an unsettled tone before Ginny cut in.

“She’s in a full blown anxiety attack. Luna and I did our best to calm her down, but well, Luna isn’t exactly a wealth of comforting words at a time like this. And I’m not known for my bedside manner. I’m much too blunt for this type of thing.”

“And you think I’m the right solution?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Fair point, but you’re our best bet, so go on in there.” Ginny practically shoved Harry through the door. Harry barely managed to find his footing before he was faced with an incredibly beautiful but incredibly nervous Hermione.

“‘Mione, you look gorgeous.” Harry was almost awestruck by how good his best friend looked. It was an even better transformation than the Yule Ball.

“Oh, Harry. Stop.” Hermione burst into tears which caused Harry to nearly have a heart attack. It was not made any better by Hermione rushing at him with a hug. Harry awkwardly patted her significantly less bushy than normal hair. 

“What has you so upset? I haven’t seen you like this since O.W.L.S.”

“It’s silly, honestly. I’m almost embarrassed to say.” Hermione stepped out of Harry’s embrace and blushed. “I just, marriage is quite the step. And I guess I just got myself in a tizzy over it.”

“Hermione Jean Granger, you and Ron are best friends and absolutely perfect for each other. You know I question most things and always have, but I have never questioned your love for each other.” 

“I suppose you’re right. I let the jitters get the best of me.” Hermione smiled at Harry. “Thanks for talking some sense into me.”

“Merlin knows I owe you that favor after all the times you’ve talked some sense into me.” Harry smiled back. “Now, I have to go perform my best man duties. I’ll see you at the altar.” Harry squeezed Hermione’s shoulder as he walked toward the door.

“Thank you.” Ginny whispered in his ear as he passed her to exit.

******************

Ron was beaming at the head of the altar with Harry and George to his left. Harry wasn’t sure he had ever seen his best friend so unabashedly happy. Ginny and Luna looked beautiful as they walked down the aisle and took their places on the right side of the altar. Hermione and her father, memory restored after months of her research on memory charms, began to walk down the aisle as well. 

Harry wasn’t paying very close attention to what the officiant was saying, instead he was looking at the smile on Hermione’s face, and the tears streaming down the guests’ cheeks. He was brought back to the ceremony when he heard Ron and Hermione begin their vows.

“I sometimes can’t believe just how far we have come. To say we spent our entire childhood bickering, would be an understatement. But, I wouldn’t have wanted to bicker with anyone other than you. Ron, you’re my fiercest supporter and you’re the only person I want by my side forever. I love you and I can’t wait for this next grand adventure.” Hermione grabbed Ron’s hands as she finished. He tightened his around hers before clearing his throat.

“I’m not normally good with words. If everyone didn’t already know, Hermione was the one who wrote a lot of my essays. But I worked really hard on this and the words are completely my own. Hermione, I love you with all of my heart. I had no idea that when I saved the annoying, bushy-haired, bookworm from a mountain troll on Halloween that she was going to end up being the love of my life. You put up with me for years, and I’m glad that you saw something in the ginger kid with dirt on his nose. It just goes to show that first impressions aren’t everything.” 

Harry was a little embarrassed when he discovered that his eyes had filled with tears and he tried to blink them away before anyone would notice. He was so misty eyed that he actually almost missed the glint of platinum blond in the crowd. The sun was reflecting off Draco’s head and Harry couldn’t believe that a moment like this was when he would recognize Draco had actually showed up to the wedding.

“In fact, first impressions aren’t anything at all if you’re going to be stuck around someone for the foreseeable future.” Ron continued, having clearly not realized Harry’s internal struggle as he was very preoccupied with his own wedding. “Thanks for teaching me that and for always laughing at me as much as you yell at me. I’m glad that you were finally able to sort out your priorities, and agreed to marry me.

Harry was still distracted by Draco in the back of the row that he all but missed the officiant saying Ron could kiss the bride. He whipped his head around in time to watch his two best friends share an intimate kiss before joyful music began to play and sparks shot off behind the altar. 

******************

Harry skirted the edge of the party, staying close enough to the bar for a refill. But he made sure he always had a clear exit in case Draco happened to wander too close. The last time they spoke, Draco had made it clear that he would prefer that Harry never speak to him again. Although Harry was not usually one to shy away from confrontation, he felt like it was easier to just avoid any potentially awkward small talk all together. 

“Haaaaaarry Potter,” Ginny sang as she walked over to him. “Dance with me.” She grabbed his hands and pulled him out on the dance floor. Harry put his hands on her waist as they swayed to the beat of the music.

“Remember when people thought that this would be our wedding?” Harry laughed.

“No offense,” Ginny smiled. “But I’m glad it’s not.”

“None taken,” Harry spun Ginny around. “Maybe someday I will be as lucky as you and find my Pansy.”

“You will,” Ginny said. “But for now, we’ll just dance as two friends who used to date. Shouldn’t be awkward at all.” Ginny smirked as Harry pulled her a little closer.

The music continued to play as the pair twirled around the dance floor laughing. They stopped spinning as the music slowed and Harry felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” Draco Malfoy drawled. Ginny waggled her eyebrows and backed away leaving Harry no choice but to accept. “It is a waltz, after all.”

Draco and Harry fumbled for a moment before Harry awkwardly placed his hands on Draco’s shoulders and Draco placed his somewhat sweaty hands on Harry’s waist.

“I wanted to talk to you about everything that happened with Oliver and Percy. And us… I know it seemed like I-” Draco began, but Harry interrupted.

“Draco, it’s fine, I get what-”

“Didn’t understand that what we were doing was wrong.” Draco pressed on.

“I know, it’s really alright-” Harry continued, talking over Draco.

“I’m trying to apologize and tell you that you were right, you prat, just let me say I’m sorry!” Draco pushed Harry’s shoulder playfully. “And thank you, you know, for not selling me out. You could’ve so easily blamed everything on me and you didn’t. You were right about warning Oliver about Percy, and I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry that I pushed you to keep setting them up just for our benefit, and I’m sorry that you lost your job because of it.”

“Draco,” Harry said. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I have a new job lined up that I think I’m going to enjoy much more than working for Percy. As for your job, I don’t know that you needed to go so far as to quit. And I’m….sorry for the things that I said in that row house. I was out of line.”

“I quit because, like you, I realized I wasn’t doing what I wanted. And you may have overstepped _a bit_ ,” Malfoy smirked. 

“I shouldn’t have brought up your past. If I’ve learned one thing through all this, it’s that you aren’t the same person that you were when we were at Hogwarts. You were a good friend to me, and you did the right thing...eventually.”

“I hope you learned more than _one_ thing, Harry!” Draco laughed. “At least I hope you figured out how to be more observant.”

“Oh, I have. For instance, I have learned that first impressions aren’t everything.” Harry leaned in towards Draco.

“Have you, Harry? And here I was hoping you learned first impressions aren’t _anything at all._ ” Draco closed the distance between himself and Harry, locking them in a much anticipated kiss.

“Especially if you’re planning on being stuck with someone for the foreseeable future.” Harry added. He smiled and then kissed Draco again. 

They were too caught up in each other to notice that Ginny and Pansy were watching intently from the other side of the dance floor. Pansy sighed and placed five galleons in Ginny’s outstretched hand.

“I told you it was going to take them till this wedding to sort their shit out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take your money and quit your bragging.” Pansy replied.

“What can I say, l’ve always been a hopeless romantic for a getting together at a wedding story.” Ginny grinned as she grabbed Pansy by the waist and pulled her out towards Harry and Draco on the dance floor.


End file.
